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coffee-and-tea-time · 4 months ago

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𓏲 ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖ Out of the menu, still the choice ๋࣭ ⭑

Yandere! Shopkeeper x Willing! Reader

We finally got a winner! *Clap clap* if you want context, you can go here but it's not that necessary we think - the twins

This mf was really more hard to write that I expected but nevertheless we tried to match the energy of the seller pickers so at least it was really fun ngl - Coffee

It took us both a while to draft what we wanted to write for him since he's not a very expressive character and we wanted to try a more subtle approach. If you have any ideas or suggestions for any of them, let us know!! -Tea

Count word: 3.1k (new longest post for now)

Tw: yandere behavior, kind of flirty reader, stalking, kidnaping?, written in you/yours, overall soft yandere, gaslighting, drugging (this really still counts as soft yandere??? believe me, yes), light paranoia, clueless reader

Your eyes scan the papers in your hand, your mind still focused rather on the man that handed you them, sitting right across from him, more specifically, the comment he just murmured. None of the people he mentioned called your attention as much as himself did, perhaps he was more that he presented himself as? He seemed to know much more about you than he’s supposed to, so, was he a yandere as well? And if so, Why miss the chance to tease a potential yandere?

"Huh, so you think I should go out more often?"

"Well, I'm just concerned about your vitamin D intake, that's all. You need more sun Dear, for the sake of your health"

He smugly smirks at you like he's saying obvious facts that you should already know about yourself… though his smirk falters, his lips pressing into a tight line as he rethinks his words, though it was too late to retract them, it was your time to shine.

"Oh? Then why not help me with that yourself? You seem to keep a good track of my time outside for some reason, care to explain yourself, Honey?"

You steal his previous smirk, it now decorating your lips, curving them upwards smugly as he seems to sink into himself, his pen flipping between his fingers as a nervous fidget, scanning your expression, seemingly trying to understand what you were attempting to do with these witty remarks.

“Dear, allow me to remind you, you came all the way here to have an obsessive partner after you walk out this door, I'm sure anyone in the list will love to fulfill the job, sadly, I'm not one of them, I'm deeply sorry if my previous comments left any space for this misunderstanding"

He seems to lifts up a wall between you and him with his formality as if attempting to keep things formal and cordial though his eyes tell a different story, his eyes, akin to a snake’s narrow slightly, scanning your features as if daring you to continue this charade; a sweet chill runs down your spine, which only widens your smile further.

"Ow, come on, there's no need to lie so blatantly to my face, you know exactly why I'm here, and for that I can also tell exactly what is happening here”

He huffs, his fingers running through his black hair, messing up his slick back hairstyle into something much more fitting to match with his semi-formal attire.

"As I just said, I'm not a yandere, let's stop this little game, Dear, I’m not sure how you arrived at this conclusion, little detective…"

Those gray eyes glare at you without even missing a beat, narrowing further to make a subtle warning: quit fooling around. Do you care? No, honestly, him staring down at you only serves to fuel your burning curiosity about the man.

"Fine then, at least answer me this, how did you know i don't go out much?"

The man scoffs as if the answer was as obvious as looking in a mirror.

"Come on now, you are chronically online, I just made a lucky guess"

… Gotcha

"My screen time is something even weirder for you to know for certain though, don't you think?"

A silence ensues, tension and realization thick in the air as his posture changes completely, from relaxed and smug to tense and anxious, he leans forward, eyes avoiding you suddenly, like he wasn't piercing you with his stare just a few seconds ago.

You let your question linger, knowing you won, knowing he had no way to protest your question seamlessly

"... don't tell management"

It was now your turn to sigh. Perhaps he was being truthful and this was just a big misunderstanding. Maybe his “background check” on you wasn't something he was supposed to do ethically speaking, but something he felt compelled to do. Then again, they did have this incident with a fool attempting to illegitimately make a yandere harem. Perhaps it was time to let this go, you tried at least, but being overly pushy could get you kicked out and leaving empty handed wasn't something you were willing to do after finally finding the courage to enter the shop.

"Well, I don't know, I choose Oliver"

You said, the smirk in your lips faltering into a soft defeated smile, shrugging as you chose someone at random, pointing blindly at the papers.

"He's already purchased"

He counters your response abruptly, his tone still formal yet with an air of defensiveness. You wondered, if he was already purchased, then why show it to you at all?

"Damn, okay, then Lio…"

You quickly point again at a random profile, barely even reading the name then scanning his expression, his head shaking even before you managed to pronounce the name fully.

"Sorry"

He responded with a shrug, his shoulders relaxing as if the tension he felt before was gone.

You smile at him once again, well, thankfully you weren't just flirting with the wrong target.

"You’re doing this on purpose"

You announce, amused by the realization, a smile widening in your lips as one seems to simultaneously tug at the corners of his, a mischievous grin adorning his sly stare, those eyes bearing into yours like a wicked fox.

"You choose me, be loyal to your own decisions… though, really, don't tell management. I do maintain I'm not some sort of obsessed maniac, Dear"

That's the most suspicious thing a person can say in a yandere shop but you take it.

"I care next to nothing about management… so, it's a date?".

(...)

You leave the store, hands empty, but not really. You walk with an extra cheer in your step, you managed to get yourself a date with the seller of the damn shop, not one of the many names in those papers, but the shopkeeper, talk about a plot twist.

And so you make your way back home, waiting for the time to arrive, the time in which you'd meet up with the man outside of work in a sweet little restaurant down the same street where the shop is located. As you get yourself ready, checking your outfit, double checking…triple checking, your mind drifts to your conversation with the seller and the way everything he said seemed to avoid each and every one of your questions skillfully. You managed to get his number with the excuse of arranging the meeting time and place, yet… that was all, you didn't even get his name, did you?.

You are brought back to reality with the buzzing of your phone, a notification from an unknown number… though it was the sellers, how did he get your number? Sure, he gave you his, but he shouldn't have a way to contact you yet, that information wasn't even in the paperwork either since you never filled any forms out, you didn't purchase any of the yanderes.

» “Hey, it's the shopkeeper”

You raised a brow at your screen, watching as the little dots bobbed up and down, indicating he was still typing another message

» “just checking if you're still up for this date you so boldly proposed. My shift is over”

His texts are a little dry, yet you can feel the awkwardness from them already, he wasn't fooling anybody, he was nervous as hell.

You quickly type up a response, resuming your teasing over text like you never left the shop and so you text back and forth until the time arrives and you leave your home, walking down the street to the restaurant he sent you the location to. Once you got there, amusement tugged your lips up into a smile. This man, acting so unapproachable, so closed off, was eagerly waiting outside the restaurant with that classic “I'm just looking at my phone” stance, but damn he looked good.

He wasn't wearing that semi-formal suit from before, but rather a tight black shirt, jeans and a jacket. His hair was down and you had to admit, it looked way better that way. You check the time on your phone, you arrive just in time, you look relieved but can’t help but wonder how the seller managed to close up shop, go back home, change and arrive before you when his last text was just a few minutes ago telling you his shift was over.

“aw, you arrived early to meet me? It’s so cute how eager you are for someone who didn't even tell me his name”

You meet his gaze as you approach him with a playful demeanor, his smile still decorating his face as always.

He huffs, glancing up from his phone, his eyes crinkling in a mischievous grin. He pockets his phone and adjusts his jacket, leaning a little closer as he speaks

“Oh, Dear, you got it all wrong, i just got here, but, i must say…waiting would have been worth it, you look stunning”

He said with a soft chuckle and you nudged his shoulder in response to his compliment, though as you nudge him you feel how cold his jacket is, of course he didn't wait for you

“Right, anyways, you know, it's only fair that I get your name. I know you so desperately want to seem all mysterious and shit, but i need to know who I'm flirting with”

You tease bluntly with a chuckle, he tenses up a little, looking away for a second, trying to disguise his blush by rolling his eyes at you.

“I suppose you could call me Jade…”

“Well, jade, pleasure to meet you”

You said trying to imitate his tone of voice as he guides the way inside the restaurant.

“Since I answered your question, it's only fair you answer mine, don't you agree?"

His gaze seems like he's taking notes of your every expression as he gently pulls a chair for you to sit on before he sits across from you.

"Are we doing a little bit of banter here? Huh, that's quite the contrary of what you been doing all day, but please, go on, I'm thrilled to know what you wish to know of me"

His eyes move to the menu, although you can say his entire focus was still on you… because of the fact he can't possibly read the menu when it's upside down.

"So, if I may ask… why did you choose to flirt with me when you came to the shop to get yourself a yandere?"

"Why not? You could say I went there to find someone that catches my eye, and jokes on you, my eyes were set on you the moment you opened that door to guide me into the store"

You restrain yourself not to giggle like a fool when the top of his ears turns red while he's attempting to keep his perpetually smiling facade, oblivious to his own reaction to your words.

"Then, do yo-"

His words quickly die on his throat as a waiter gets to your table, you didn't have the time to catch the small twitch of his eyebrows that lasted a second.

"Good evening, I will be your server for the night, what can I get started for you two?"

As you two order normally, you can't help but feel a sense of discomfort as the waiter always speaks focusing his eyes on you, but Jade doesn't seem to react so you dismissed it, you're only feeling weird because of the awkwardness of being on a first date, although you can't help but sigh faintly with relief after the server walks away.

"Well… anyways, since I replied to one of your questions, guess it's my turn!"

You said smiling, trying to brush off the weird feeling you just had, focusing on your task in hand: the date.

“so, why don’t you tell me a little about your hobbies?”

You gaze at him while his head tilts slightly, as if doubting if to reply or just dodge the question like the past ones.

“Well, they differ depending on the time, I’m the type of person that get a new one every once in a while but one that has stuck since high school is embroidery”

Honestly, you can picture it, he does seem like the type of person who enjoys calm classy hobbies, old lady hobbies if you will. The image is sort of endearing.

"Since high school? Wow, what was your first piece?"

You feel relieved that he seems more open to conversation now that you both are formally on this date. Sadly for you and lucky for him, you focused so much on listening to his answers that you didn't catch the small blush dusting his cheeks.

"...It was a skull, edgy, I know. I really like how it turned out back then though”

“A skull? Very edgy indeed, why-”

Your question was left hanging in the air as an arm interfered with your vision of Jade, the waiter placing your plates on the table with a polite smile. The interjection was a little awkward, but there's not much you can do about it, the waiter is just doing his job.

Though as you lower your voice to a stop, interrupted by the waiter, you see the slight hint of annoyance in Jade’s face flick for a second just to disappear like it never happened, it makes you wonder if that was a hint of jealousy? It probably wasn't… your yandere rotten brain must be seeing things, right?

As you two indulge in conversation, enjoying your little date, you almost lose track of time. It feels like in the blink of an eye, the date was already at its final point, the only thing that popped your bubble was his phone ringing.

"...sorry, it's my boss, allow me to step out real quick, it won't take long I'm sure"

You nod to him before he makes his way to the restroom to pick up the call. Honestly you feel kind of sad that the dinner was reaching its end but well, you can't be that clingy on the first date.

As you ponder between when and where the perfect second date will be or if it's best to wait for him to ask for another, the waiter interrupts your thoughts, placing a glass of what looks like raspberry juice on the table.

"Excuse me sir, I didn't order this"

The waiter gives you a puzzled expression as if it were a competition who is more confused by the situation but is quick to giggle as if it was an inside joke of his before reassuring you.

"Oh, don't worry, it's already been paid”

You didn't have time to ask further questions when the busy server was already on another table that needed him, well, it looks tasty anyways, why reject something when it's free?

You honestly feel like luck is on your side today; you got the confidence to try and flirt with Jade and successfully get yourself a really good date! And you also get a free drink as a way to celebrate your little achievement, so you take a big gulp.

Huh? Weird, you know the taste of raspberry by heart, why does it taste more bitter? Ugh, the fruit is probably not that fresh , even the consistency feels a little thicker too. Well, raspberry juice is supposed to be like that, perhaps you got too used to store bought and got yourself confused.

"Well, is not like a restaurant would sell 'expired juice' as their main drink, surely I'm just overthinking it"

You reason with yourself in a whisper as you set the drink aside, ugh, maybe you drank too big of a sip, you start to feel like you got brain freeze or something.

(…)

“Dear, are you feeling well? Do you need to go to the restroom?”

The sound of his relaxed voice quickly fills your ears, your mind feels hazy but you nevertheless try focusing on him as he sits back down to the table, catching his expression changing from the usual laid back grin to a worried frown. You didn't even notice when he came back from his work call, not until he was right in front of you, it's like time passed while your brain was stopped, something wasn't good…

"Did something happen? Do you need a pain-killer? Did the food upset your stomach?"

The rapid fire questions overfill your already overwhelmed mind as his hands hold your shoulders before he places his forehead against yours to check your temperature and although you tried, your currently unstable self only managed to hardly mumble some words.

"I… don't know, I just drank that"

You focus your gaze on the glass of juice and he follows your gaze with a frown as if his laid back mask is cracked.

"the color is slightly off and ice is only floating up to the middle of the glass…"

Was there really something wrong with your drink? What was in there? How bad is it? What's going to happen to you? Was it the waiter? Was there someone in the restaurant you didn't see? Why is this happening today?

"Dear, focus on me, okay? Don't worry, you're fine, just dizzy, I will make sure you are okay, alright? Take a deep breath for me darling"

Through your dizziness you watch as he moves skillfully and quickly, paying the bill as fast as he could to take you out of there, his arms tightly wrapped around you to steady your wobbly stance, guiding you out of the busy restaurant. It's almost as if you were drunk, which didn't make sense, you felt yourself slipping further out of your senses, sounds muffled and your vision blurry, your legs and hands feeling tingly with each step you took with his assistance.

"Jade, I-"

"Don't worry Dear, I will take care of you, just trust me, alright?"

You can help but feel grateful that even in this awful situation, you managed to have someone so gentle and caring with you, but before you can try to babble a thank you, you feel your mind shut off like an old tv… don't worry, you are being taken care of, Dear.

He just wants to look after you, it would be so creepy if he left you unconscious at your place since he's not supposed to know your address yet, so, guess the only choice is him letting you crash at his apartment, it's fine, you will find yourself at home there, it's really cozy!

. . .

Wait, did you really believe him? That's kind of hilarious, try guessing again.

sorry for any misspellings or weird sentence structure ❣

images from pinterest and divider by Tea ⚘

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17020 · 5 months ago

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vitamin deficiency had hit ren kaji like a truck.

the sugary treats that sat in his pockets were constantly in his mouth, sometimes acting as replacements for nutritious foods. he had never given the side effects of living off of lollipops any thought, until his body began to show that it had had enough.

kaji did not wonder why he had been feeling more fatigued after patrols, brushing it off as him not sleeping enough or just being tired of the same, monotonous routine. he also, did not pay any mind to the growing pains on his bones, and how his nails were easily breaking with every punch that he threw.

the one who did notice, though, was you.

because it was not fun to hop into the shower after a long, tiring day, only to find platinum strands scattered all over the floor.

you were a bit puzzled as to why your apartment was suddenly covered in your boyfriend's hair. it did not take long for you to realize that something was wrong when you laid on top of your boyfriend on your sofa, his fingertips softly drawing circles on your back and giving you small scratches on accident.

ren kaji paid no mind to his health, which meant that you had to assume the role of his personal nurse, and it was no easy task.

pills and capsules were an absolute no, as he straight up denied them as they were 'a total hassle'. effervescents were your next choice, disguising them as soda and offering them to kaji, earning a scowl in return as he shook his head in denial.

so when you stumbled across vitamin lollipops while inside the pharmacy, you knew you had hit the jackpot.

every vitamin you could think of, stuffed inside your boyfriend's favorite treat. the packaging was identical to kaji's usual lollipops, which was the cherry on top. you had a perfect plan, and in order for it to work, patience was to become your strongest virtue.

it was a slow start.

every morning, you would offer the blond gremlin next to you a vitamin lollipop, even stuffing them in his pockets for him to grab when he's on patrol. he would take it from your hands with no issue whatsoever, being under the impression that they were the same as usual. his brows furrowed.

"'nother flavor?"

"mhm. they brought back the cherry ones, and there's orange too."

"oh. cool."

slowly but surely, you had turned into kaji's personal lollipop dealer, with him shooting you texts asking you for more lollies. it took weeks for kaji to fully 'return' to normal, if you could even call it that—your boyfriend was better than ever. sure, the lollipops cost a pretty penny, but the shine on your boyfriend's radiant skin, strong nails and full set of hair made it all worth it.

one morning in particular, your boyfriend stared at you, his palm open and extended towards you.

"need something, ren?"

"you give me an orange lollipop every morning before i leave."

you chuckled at your boyfriend's subtle pout, "i ran out, ren. i'll get some more today, alright?"

kaji nodded before placing a quick peck on your forehead, heading out the door.

who knew the perceptive ren kaji was so easy to condition and fool?

n. first time writing for winbre how r we feelin tonight

#wind breaker x reader #wind breaker x you #kaji x reader #ren kaji x reader #kaji ren x reader #kaji x you #ren kaji x you #kaji ren x you #wind breaker x y/n #winbre x reader

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theambitiouswoman · 4 months ago

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jscajones · 1 year ago

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AN INCOMPLETE LIST: THINGS I LOVED ABOUT THE RWRB MOVIE

Henry complimenting Alex’s cologne in the storage closet

The way Henry pauses and gives a look after Alex asks “have I surprised you in any way?”

The way Henry is looking at Alex when Pez is telling Nora “you are the most exquisite woman I have ever seen in my life”

The way Alex is so distracted he forgets who he’s talking to because Henry is in his sightline

Alex nervously trying to figure out how to stand before Henry comes into the red room

tHE WAY THEY LOOK AT EACH OTHER WHEN HE COMES INTO THE RED ROOM

The look Henry gives Alex when he walks out of his bedroom i.e. “I am very, very gay”

“And I thought Alexander Gabriel Claremont-Diaz was a mouthful” “He is” and the fucking LOOKS

“Can he ever belong to someone else?” “Only momentarily”

“Would it make a difference if I told you not to see him again?” IMMEDIATE NO

Alex at the beginning saying royalty in the 21st century is so antiquated…..Henry saying the same thing to Bea later

“I would never call you a coward”

The SHIT-EATING SMILE Alex gives Henry in the V&A when he’s putting his arms on his shoulders and making him dance, the little shit

HISTORY, HUH? BET WE COULD MAKE SOME

Henry waking up next to Alex the next morning and his lil smile and the way he leans into Alex’s arm around him

Alex finally calling him HRH when he’s telling the world he loves him

Zahra’s face pretty much the entire movie but especially when Alex is literally waxing poetically about Henry’s eyebrows

Also how curly Alex’s hair is in that entire scene

The fact that Alex is wearing his ring

LOVESICK HOMOSEXUALS

Touch me and die

BABY

& Henry’s sweet relieved baby face after he hears that

Collapsing on the stairs like the drama queens they are

THE FACT THAT ALEX IS WEARING HIS RING

Alex watching Henry play piano like the sun shines out of his ass and he has a vitamin D deficiency

Yankee Doodle

Alex’s slutty ass tight shirt

Alex’s pecs (I’m fine)

Henry’s smile when he notices Alex wearing his ring and fiddling with it in the same way he used to

They went out onto the balcony and they cried and I cried

CASEY MCQUISTON, PRESIDENTIAL SPEECH WRITER EVERYBODY

Yellow roses

That long ass hug

Henry looking like a lost little puppy on the stage until Alex takes his hand

OPEN HEARTED, FEARLESS, AND ALIVE

#look i know the movie wasn't a carbon copy of the book #and there was some shit left out #but i loved some stuff #and the alex in me demanded a list #thank u for ur time #reese talks #rwrb #rwrb movie #rwrb movie spoilers #rwrb spoilers #spoilers #firstprince #red white and royal blue #red white & royal blue #alex claremont diaz #prince henry of wales #henry hanover stuart fox #1k

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orikiys · 1 year ago

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✿ ✿ 〞 skz as boyfriends

✰ pairings: bf!skz x gn!reader

✰ genre: tooth rotting fluff, romance

✰ warnings: none

✰ word count: 1.6k + words

౨₊ৎ chan

chan feels like the type of boyfriend to buy you coffee whenever you need, and he’s the type of guy to always remind you to have your vitamins. it’s weird really, how a person knows you so inside out. chan knows very well that you have the habit of forgetting things, so he makes you to-do lists with cute stickers and emojis and sticks it on the refrigerator so that it’s easily visible. he always has an arm around your waist, or holding your wrist gently in crowded places so that the two of you don’t get separated. chan didn’t know when this started, but you noticed it. he now has a habit of patting the side of your bed to check if you’re asleep or not. he takes you out to library dates since he knows your unhealthy obsession with books. man is so whipped for you! if he sees something resembling even 1% he’s gonna stare at it for hours and shyly giggle. the members found his lovesick behaviour amusing. they’d often tease him for hours and all chan could do was scratch his neck and look away with a deeply flushed face. he’s also the type of boyfriend to tie your shoe lace, and smile lovingly at you after he’s done. he’d probably adjust your hair when your hands are too busy and even offers to help you in your skincare! he is THE boyfriend.

౨₊ৎ minho

minho has a habit of communicating through blinks. the two of you are often surrounded with silence but your eyes– they say more than enough. minho doesn’t know why but he loves squishing your cheeks. he giggles after squishing your cheeks and would peck your lips before pulling away with a smug smile. when he comes home tired he just lays his head on your lap and then hugs your waist tightly. to him, skinship means a lot. wherever he is, he doesn’t forget to cup your cheeks and stare at you lovingly. after a long day, he’d let you keep your head on his shoulder in the bus and would even wrap an arm around you protectively. even when he’s with his cats he tells them about you. about how he loves you so much or where he sees the two of you in the near future. and honestly it’s so cute. the way his eyes practically shine along with that fond smile makes you realise how whipped this man is. another thing minho loves doing is watch you react to his performances. he finds your reactions amusing and loves when you pay more attention to his fancams. he’s had those dances memorised so he’d rather pay attention to you. would hide his face in your neck when you compliment him too much. and this would later turn into a pillow fight. it’s moments with minho that you can’t help but replay. each second with him is special.

౨₊ৎ changbin

the type of boyfriend to randomly start rapping about you in the middle of the kitchen. it’s amazing how he comes up with ideas so quick. you and changbin have this thing of getting ready together in the morning. the two of you brush your teeth at the same and would do each other’s skin care through soft giggles and kisses. another thing is that the two of you are gym rats. would help each other in completing bench presses and motivate while doing reps. even though the two of you would be sweaty, he’ll kiss your cheek for a long minute and would pull away with the brightest grin. days with changbin would never be boring. he’d make you laugh your ass off till you have tears in your eyes. the two of you cook dinner together and it’s something you both enjoy. feeding each other slices of vegetables, grabbing things from the upper shelf since you can’t reach it or simply the eye contacts you make frequently. changbin loves your hugs. he’d throw the two of you on the couch and would lay on top of you with his hands wrapped around your body as the two of you binge watch kdramas. it’s cute. so damn cute.

౨₊ৎ hyunjin

he is literally the most romantic person i’ve ever seen. wherever the two of you go, he always has either his phone out or the camera. he’d click thousands of pictures of you doing literally nothing, from the goofy ones to the aesthetic ones he has it all. he literally has more pictures of you than you do. he’d save the last slice of you and you would do the same. the two of you would laugh it off and split that slice in half, and he’d still give the larger piece to you. hyunjin and you just cuddle when you meet. no matter what the time is, cuddling is important!! he’d tuck your hair behind you ear and would stare at you for long periods of time doing nothing just studying your features. the next thing you know is that he drew a portrait of you. one so beautiful that had you in literal tears. before sleeping, the two of you would be entangled in each other’s arms and would read books to each taking turns on alternate days. hyunjin has a habit of purposely leaving his clothes in your wardrobe. he just loves it when you wear his clothes or smell like him, it makes him wonder how he got so lucky. he is literally a man written by a woman. would hold the door for you, draw chair for you, never raise his voice at you, kiss you giving silly excuses and flirt with you 24/7. this is what dating hyunjin feels like, and you couldn’t have gotten any happier.

౨₊ৎ han

the goofball duo. constant teasing, playing around and being chaotic announces the start of your days. he loves being attentive and would observe every little thing of you, would match steps with you when you walk, would hug you from the back and sway the two of you gently on random mornings when he wakes up, would pepper your face with kisses and compliment you aggressively telling you how much he loves you. when the two of you go outside, he’s like a whole new person. he would constantly check on you to see if you’re comfortable or not. he would insist on eating where you wanted and would oblige by carrying your shopping bags. would randomly make faces during serious making it hard to not crack up. during cold days, his bag would be filled with scarfs, water bottles, snacks, moisturisers, lip balms and what not? but they’re all for you. he thinks about you more than he thinks of himself, and maybe it’s just his habit but it always makes your heart flutter.

౨₊ৎ felix

the literal tiktok boyfriend. would 100% post you on his stories, just hiding your face since he knows the there are many weird people online. would drag you outside and twirl you as it rains. eventually, he would kiss you lovingly and passionately. loves matching clothes with you and would purposely pick out the clothes when the two of you go out on dates. maybe it’s just a felix thing, but he grew so accustomed to certain people that he started copying the little actions they do. like tapping his fingers against your thigh, laughing way too hard at your jokes since he now finds your lame humour funny and giving you an extra piece of his brownie saying it’s because he loves you a little extra. hugs and kisses are meant for him. he detects your mood in a minute and acts accordingly. letting you rest on his lap when you’re tired, tickling you hard when you feel low or just simply taking you in his arms and staying like that. he loves you so much. and he isn’t afraid to show it.

౨₊ৎ seungmin

the type of boyfriend to start dissing anything you like. if you’re playing a game he’ll make you lose focus by speaking too much. if you’re eating something he’ll side eye you but then proceeds to grab a bite and tell you that it’s good. would purposely match shoes together. he thinks it’s cute as the two of you match when you walk together. he has a stash of chocolates for you every other week, and keeps refilling it saying chocolates improve your mood. would brag you to the members saying you made his favourite today or you gave him a gift or just randomly when he thinks of you too much. when he sees you teasing one of his members, he has a proud smile on his face as if he taught you well. when you hurt your knee, he’d give you disney band aids saying they’re magical and it heals faster. yeah, he does believe that stuff and then he would kiss it better.

౨₊ৎ jeongin

best boi. he loves you so much that he has playlists dedicated to you. he even made you a 365 day note jar with small words of affirmations, pickup lines, jokes and what not! suppose you cooked something for him and it turns out to be a bit too salty he’ll lie with a wide smile because he doesn’t want to hurt you ): would take you out on arcade dates pretty often since the two of you loved games! but. . . the two of you are so competitive that it turns into a sulky day but he makes it up by giving you three sips of his milkshake. happy you, happy jeongin!

PERM TAGLIST: @taeriffic 🧣 @hello-2-u-from-me 🧣 @ilychee08 🧣 @sleepyleeji 🧣 @spacegirlstuff

#ॱଳ͘#k labels #stray kids reactions #stray kids fluff #stray kids imagines #stray kids x reader #bang chan x reader #minho x reader #changbin x reader #hyunjin x reader #han x reader #felix x reader #seungmin x reader #jeongin x reader #skz fluff #skz x reader #skz scenarios #skz x gn reader

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greensagephase · 2 months ago

Text

Nonviolent Communication - Part 19

Pairing: Spider-Man!Miguel O'Hara x Spider-Woman!Reader Summary: It's time. Word Count: 9.6k Warnings: angst; Miguel crying; mention of injuries; mention of death; mention of someone sacrificing their life; use of sedatives; Nonviolent Communication? More like Nonviolent [lack of] Communication Music (Spotify playlist): "Present" - Lloyd Vaan "Fade Into You" - Vitamin String Quartet "That Home" - The Cinematic Orchestra Masterlist A/N: Another update so soon? It's a Christmas miracle in October!

Part 19

Miguel tenderly gazes at you from his hammock, his pinky finger wrapped around yours. He feels a gentle breeze rustling his hair, a contrast to the warmth emitted from your hand near his. He can hear music and conversation taking place from afar, but none of that matters.

Miguel is so at peace right now, he even forgets that next week you’ll likely be moving out of the penthouse.

He simply focuses on the now, on this moment of tranquility with you.

Gazing at you, Miguel can’t help but think about how he’ll remember this weekend forever, even when he’s seventy. He’ll gaze at the moon and be reminded of tonight, how you’re sharing a thermos with freshly brewed coffee and holding each other’s pinky fingers under the moonlight. He’ll recall your whispered question about the children you were meant to have, but didn’t, and the way his answer seemed to satisfied your thoughts. He’ll remember the way you subtly lowered your arm, trying to play it off as nothing, and how he knew what you hoped, maybe even longed for: his touch.

His crimson eyes shining like rubies in the night gaze up at you one moment and the next they’re closed.

His eyes move rapidly under his eyelids, confused.

He opens them, but his vision is a blur. He’s suddenly overwhelmed with an ache all over his body, as if he hasn’t moved in days. Miguel repeatedly blinks, his mind trying to figure out what’s going on. He succeeds in clearing his vision, but the confusion remains.

Miguel was at the beach with you just now, hanging on a hammock below yours and holding your pinky finger, but now he’s here.

At an infirmary room.

Alone.

Miguel feels frozen for a second before he looks down at himself, finding his body clad in a hospital gown and laying on the bed. His confusion grows tenfold. Dread spreads throughout Miguel’s chest while he searches the empty and cold room he was in last year.

Why is he here? He was just on the hammock, his pinky finger wrapped around yours.

Where are you?

That thought has Miguel instantly sitting up despite the pain shooting through his body. His eyes search for you, for any sign of you in this room. He looks at the floor, the tables, and the uncomfortable chair you slept on last year pressed to the wall a few feet away. It’s empty, no sign of a pillow or blanket on it. He looks around once more, wondering where your duffel bag is at. It should be here somewhere, right?

Yet, Miguel finds nothing. No trace of you.

Where are you?

Where did you go?

The dread in his chest intensifies with every second, his mind a mess with thoughts. His heart rate shoots up, triggering an alarm that has the infirmary staff rushing through the door. In seconds, a doctor and nurses are at his side, trying to assess what’s wrong. They find the usual distant and stoic boss under distress.

“Why am I here? How did I get here? I was somewhere else,” Miguel says while they check the monitors, his voice filled with stress. “I was at the beach just now — with Dulzura. Where’s Dulzura at? Y/N?” he asks. “Where is she?”

“Sir, you need to calm down. Everything is okay,” the doctor replies in a calmly manner that only seems to frustrate Miguel even more.

“Where is she? Why isn’t she here?” Miguel continues to ask.

“We’re going to call Mrs. Jess and Mr. Peter B., alright?” the doctor replies, giving a subtle nod to a nurse on the other side of the bed.

“I’m not asking for either Jess or Peter. I’m asking you for Y/N. Just tell me where she is!” Miguel says, his voice rising out of frustration. All he wishes to know is that you’re here somewhere, somewhere close to him so the dread in his heart can cease.

Yet, the staff refuses to answer his questions and instead, fill his bloodstream with a drug.

“¿Dónde está? [Where is she?]” Miguel says softly, the sedative doing its job. “I was at the beach. I was with her,” he adds. “Dulzura?” he whispers, eyes fluttering. “Por favor, Dulzura… [Please]” he continues, his vision becoming blurry once more. “Stay…”

♡

When Miguel wakes up again, he detects voices in the room. For a few seconds, they sound far, far away.

He groans when he begins to feel the body ache all over again, still there. “Dulzura,” he says, voice hoarse.

“Miguel - it’s alright. We’re here,” a voice says.

“You’re going to be okay, pal,” another one adds.

“Where’s Dulzura?” Miguel manages to say, his eyes struggling to open. “Where is she?”

“Who’s Dulzura?” the second voice asks.

“I don’t… I don’t know,” the first voice says. “He never called Gabriella that.”

“Then, who… is he calling for?” the second voice questions.

“God knows what’s going on in his mind right now,” the first voice replies. “Look, his eyes are fluttering. Miguel? Can you hear us?”

At last, Miguel opens his eyes, groaning. He looks around, his vision blurry for a few seconds before they focus on the faces near him.

Jess and Peter.

“What - what happened?” Miguel asks, searching for you once more. He tries to spot your favorite blanket, the one you had over your legs just yesterday while reading a book in front of the fireplace at the bungalow, but he can’t find it. Your sweatshirt is nowhere in sight, too. There’s not even a hint of your scent in the air, as if you haven’t been here in days.

“You’ve been out for a few days, pal,” Peter says gently, eyebrows furrowed. “You took a lot during the fight trying to help Miles save his dad. By the way, he’s safe. They both are. And, we defeated the Spot, too.”

“Wh-what?” Miguel whispers, his mouth feeling dry. This makes no sense.

Jess sighs, giving Peter a look before turning to face him again. “We’ll explain everything, okay? But you need to remain calm.” With that, Jess tells Miguel everything. Peter listens, adding a few details here and there when necessary.

Miguel listens, his heart sinking and sinking with every word. His chest is filled with such a heaviness, he feels that if he was standing, he’d surely drop to the ground due to the weight.

How could it be? None of what Jess and Peter are saying makes sense, but according to them, Miguel has been at the infirmary for days after Miles and him, along with half of the Spider Society, worked together to save Mr. Morales and stop the Spot from unleashing chaos on the multiverse.

Miguel didn’t go unscathed, however. He was seriously hurt during the encounter, putting his life at risk for the sake of the multiverse and Mr. Morales’s life.

He thought it was only fair — even just — after being incorrect about the canon event theory. So, Miguel went into the fight ready to sacrifice his life. He had nothing else to give, nothing else to lose.

He was ready to lose his life.

And he almost did.

Apparently, Miguel did in fact die for a few minutes, but the infirmary team resuscitated him. Due to the shock and trauma his body received during the fight, it’s taken several days for Miguel to wake up.

“We’re glad to have you back, pal,” Peter says, donning that pink robe he’s been wearing since Mayday was born, but Miguel can’t force himself to care about anything right now.

He doesn’t care about what everyone has been doing around HQ over the last few days when Jess fills him in. He doesn’t care that everything is running smoothly. He doesn’t care about anything at all.

Both Jess and Peter watch him, giving each other subtle looks, though they’re sure Miguel wouldn’t even notice them if they were obvious ones to begin with. Miguel is distant, more than ever. His body may be here in front of them, but his mind is elsewhere. Far, far, far away.

They have no idea of the immense longing and pain the leader is under while he stares at the windows with the same sentences echoing in his mind over and over again.

It was all a dream.

You were just a dream.

You don’t exist.

Miguel was hurt badly, so much to the point he died for a few minutes, but that doesn’t affect his intelligence to figure it out. He dreamed of a life after the events with the Spot — a total of two years with you at his side.

He tries to swallow the knot in his throat while Jess and Peter converse, not knowing what they’re talking about. He tries to focus on the conversation, tries to pretend to be okay, but there’s a horrible, heavy feeling that grows and grows in his chest with every second, making it nearly impossible to breathe.

He puts on a facade.

He’s okay.

Miguel repeats the sentence, trying to make himself believe the biggest lie he’s ever told himself.

He keeps himself at bay, but he’s like a weak dam that finally crumbles when Jess and Peter leave.

It’s only in his solitude, in this horrible loneliness, within his cold and empty infirmary room, that Miguel’s chest heaves dramatically. His breathing speeds up, his chest heavy like lead.

His beautiful crimson eyes swell with tears, his vision becoming blurry once again. The knot in his throat never left, just temporarily paused. He feels it grow in this horrible and cold loneliness. It hurts. The knot in his throat hurts so much, giving him a burning and sharp barbed wire-like feeling. The thought that actual barbed wire pressed to his skin would hurt less crosses his mind before the devastating reality weighs down on him.

Miguel presses the heels of his hands against his eyes, sobbing his gentle heart out.

It has to be a nightmare. It has to be.

His lips tremble before a cry escapes from within.

How was he just there with you? Holding your pinky finger in his, in perfect solitude on the beach?

Miguel can almost taste the coffee you made just to enjoy on the hammocks. He cries at that, at how much you love coffee and the way your eyes seem to twinkle when he says he’ll make café de olla [coffee pot] just for you.

“God — “ Miguel says through his sobbing, his face tear-stained. “Please, please wake me up. I’ll do anything. Just wake me up from this dream — I beg you.”

But Miguel doesn’t wake up.

This is his life and you’re not here.

There’s no you.

You don’t exist.

Miguel cries and cries, until those crimson eyes can’t cry anymore.

He spends the rest of the day mourning and longing for you, the bitter truth crashing over him like rogue waves. He’s longing for someone he’s never met, someone he’s not sure exists, not even out there in the multiverse.

♡

Despite doctor’s orders, Miguel is back in the lab the next day. He stands on his platform, crimson eyes scanning over his screens. His platform is elevated all the way to the ceiling, where Miguel wishes to be alone and undisturbed. He wants to forget, but he cannot.

The lab’s counters are unorganized, parts and tools scattered about.

No one will volunteer to help organize them every week, Miguel knows that now. There’s no quiet conversation between you and Lyla, who asks questions about your comfort food or plans for the weekend.

There’s no hidden Mexican candy in the cabinets for you to eat. There’s no hidden scarf in his drawers with your scent interwoven within its fibers.

Miguel freezes.

Your scent.

Your soft breathing when you sleep.

Your voice.

He slumps over his platform at the realization, wincing at his wounds from the movement. He can smell it, somehow, even now. There’s no trace of it anywhere, but he can remember it and God, he holds on to it, desperately, like a man half dead clinging to life.

Miguel hears your soft breathing and voice then, plays it his head. He prays to God and every saint he knows he never forgets either sounds.

“Mierda [shit],” Miguel murmurs, a slight tremor in his voice. “¿Donde estás? [where are you?]” He wonders, his chest tightening the same way it does every time he thinks of Gabriella and his brother, Gabriel.

And he knows… He is mourning you just the same despite being made up.

“Dulzura,” Miguel whispers, eyes closed as he remains slumped over his platform. Images of you flash in his mind like a movie.

The time he found you sick in your apartment, passed out and in pain. He made pasta for you and cleaned up your space a bit, even fixed the cabinets of your kitchen.

The night of Día de los Muertos [Day of the Dead] while you looked at his ofrenda [altar], the lit candles which gave your face a gentle glow.

Miguel recalls the times you brought him lunch and coffee cups too small to actually do much to his body, but him accepting them nonetheless after months of your offerings.

He remembers the Christmas Eve when you showed up with food, looking nervous because you were in his penthouse for the first time. He remembers your look of surprise seeing him dressed in normal clothes for once.

All these images flash in his mind, all the way to lunches on rooftops and sleeping on his living room floor to putting together that puzzle of two butterflies in a meadow during the beach trip.

“Miguel?” Lyla speaks suddenly. “Are you feeling unwell?”

“No,” Miguel replies, straightening up. His voice is weak with a hint of harshness as an attempt to hide his true feelings. “I’m fine.”

He repeats that to himself.

He’s fine.

He pushes through the first half of the day, his mind and heart a mess.

Even as the days go by and turn into weeks since the situation with Miles, Miguel feels lost.

One morning after showering at the penthouse, he stands in the halfway to the bedrooms. He knows better than to, but he pushes the door open to Gabriel’s old room. Of course, it’s the same as it’s always been since his brother’s death.

Somewhere in his long and intricate dream, you stayed here in this room after a fire on your building. You made it yours with a lot of hesitance, your idea being that you didn’t want to be a ‘burden’ to him.

Miguel recalls telling you to stop thinking that. You could never be a burden to him.

But now you are, only because he must carry on living with the mere imagination of your existence in his life.

♡

Miguel’s stomach grumbles while he works. He’s tempted to ignore the hunger and keep working to avoid his thoughts, but then he remembers that you would’ve disapproved of that behavior. An image of you frowning in disapproval flashes in his mind. Even though it’s just an image and he now knows he somehow made you up, he still can’t find it in himself to be the reason for a frown on your face, real or not real.

He engages the platform to lower it, deciding to go to the cafeteria. He stares at the ground, arms at his sides, a feeling of defeat filling him.

In that moment, Miguel wishes he would’ve never woken up.

Miguel sighs heavily in desperation and sorrow. He covers his face with both hands. He would’ve blissfully stayed in that dream, where things were great with his best friend. He swallows the knot in his throat now, the feeling all too familiar, for Miguel has cried every day since he woke up.

Miguel clears his throat and wipes the beginning of his tears away before dragging himself out of the lab, even though all he wants to do is stay in that dark and empty space — alone. He doesn’t want to look at the spider members, who’ll probably continue to stare hoping for something from him after everything that happened with Miles.

His mind hasn’t even wrapped itself around that situation and how everything he’s worked for has turned out to be wrong. Then, there’s the loss of Gabby, his sweet little Gabriella.

And of course, there’s the loss of someone he’s never met.

You.

He should’ve never woken up.

Miguel walks out into a hallway, a few spider members greeting his sight. He avoids their eyes, unable to meet their gazes. His steps feel heavy as he walks down one of the many hallways of their base, memories of him and you walking together flashing through his mind.

You’re everywhere.

And yet, you’re not.

Miguel almost turns around and heads back to the lab, even if it means not eating. How is he going to manage to walk past the conference rooms where you both spent time together each week, talking over coffee before meetings started? He doesn’t want to gaze inside because he knows only the ghost of you on your unassigned assigned chair next to his will greet him back.

He makes it past them, but only because he keeps his gaze down.

Somewhere, he hears a door open and a new set of footsteps join him. He doesn’t have it in himself to look up, even though the footsteps sound familiar in the midst of his internal turmoil. He hears a gizmo go off, probably the other person’s. He looks up, only by instinct, and freezes as his eyes capture the smallest glimpse of someone’s suit as they turn a corner.

It’s the smallest, shortest glimpse, but it’s there.

The colors of your suit.

His breath gets caught in his throat and before Miguel knows it, he’s walking faster. He turns and enters another hallway, missing the individual once again as they turn the corner. However, this time, his gaze is much more focused, so he’s able to spot not only the colors, but also part of the design of the suit for a fragment of a second, causing his heart to race.

His steps are determined as he continues to walk, following the person’s tracks. He can’t help but feel like he’s chasing his lifeline, feeling more alive than he has in weeks.

He must be going crazy, Miguel thinks.

It’s foolish and yet, Miguel follows.

He enters the cafeteria, met with a buzz from spider members having lunch. He looks around as they walk in front of him, blocking his way. He wishes he could silence them for a second as his gaze searches for you in the midst of the crowd. He spots the colors of your suit again, straight ahead, and follows, ready to push anyone if he must.

Miguel sighs in frustration as he pushes past a group, keeping his eyes in the same spot as to not miss the individual.

“Miguel-” someone says.

“Not now,” he replies as he keeps walking, not even sparing a glance.

At last, there’s the individual. Their back is to him but there’s your suit. Identical.

“No puede ser [it can’t be],” Miguel breathes out as he keeps walking, not sure what he’s even doing. All he knows is that there you are, or at least it seems so and he’ll be damned if he doesn’t talk to you, his best friend.

His steps slow down as Jess steps into view, facing him. She says something to you just as her eyes find Miguel. He watches as she gives him a nod and says something else to you, or at least he thinks it’s you.

With his heart racing, Miguel keeps approaching.

“Miguel,” Jess says, acknowledging him verbally. “I’m glad to see you. I was about to go and look for you to introduce someone to you — someone I think would be a great asset.”

He doesn’t say anything as he comes to a halt, just five feet away from you, your back to him still. As if in slow motion, he watches you turn around and there.

Your face meets Miguel’s eyes, your reflection finding a home in them.

There you are.

You are real.

You exist.

Miguel stares at you, his heart racing. He feels his breathing pick up but this time out of gratitude, happiness, and so much more. You’re here. You’re real.

You look at him with those eyes he knows so well, but there’s no recognition in them. You don’t recognize him at all.

“This is Y/N,” Jess starts.

“Nice to meet you, sir,” you say with a nod, not even offering your hand. “I’d shake your hand, but Jess has told me you…” you trail off.

“I’ve informed her,” Jess says, referring to no physical touch.

Miguel stares at you, his heart in pain. You’ve called him ‘sir’ instead of by his name or the nickname you gave him, Migs.

He lifts a hand, his pinky finger out, hoping you know.

You blink at the sight, an expression of confusion on your face when you see the gesture. You glance at Jess, hoping for an explanation.

Miguel gulps. “You don’t - You don’t remember… You don’t know me?”

“Sir…” you say gently, confused.

“Dulzura,” Miguel says, looking at you. “You really don’t remember me?”

“Miguel — what are you doing?” Jess asks, confused and alarmed.

“You don’t remember when I found you sick at your apartment?” he asks. “All the times I made you café de olla? You don’t remember the night we said we had each other. Always?”

“I don’t know what - Jess what’s going on?” you ask, turning to her.

“Dulzura, please,” Miguel says. “I’m begging you. I can’t bear this anymore,” he continues, feeling like he could die right now.

“Miguel, you need to calm down, okay? Please, get something to eat and rest. You’ve been working too much,” Jess says. “You’re scaring the recruit.”

“She’s not just a recruit. This is Dulzura,” Miguel says, frustrated. “She’s my best friend,” he adds, hoping you will remember, but no matter what he says, neither you nor Jess believe him.

“Dulzura, please. Please tell me you remember,” Miguel whispers, tears swelling in his eyes. “I’ve missed you so much. I’ve thought of you every day since I woke up, please. It’s been weeks since I woke up in that empty infirmary room, searching for you. We went to the beach because you invited me, remember? We bought groceries the day before, went shopping together. We made red chilaquiles [Mexican dish] that first morning we spent there and some of our friends showed up. We went for walks and I gave you a seashell. Don’t you remember?” Miguel asks in distress, noticing the lack of recognition on your face. “We put together a puzzle and talked about parenthood. You made me realize I’m open to the idea of one day experiencing that and romantic love, even if I’ve accepted I might not get to. Please, Dulzura! Please, please, please! How do you not remember? Dulzura, Dulzura, Dulzura…” Miguel repeats, brokenhearted and crying.

Miguel sits up in bed.

He gasps for air, chest heaving in the night. There’s tears streaming down his face and he feels sweaty as he looks around.

“Dulzura,” Miguel whispers, and at the thought of you, the bed covers go flying. He's on his feet in a second, walking barefoot towards the hallway.

Please, please, please… Miguel thinks as he walks past the door frame. He's barely taken three steps when he runs into something.

Someone.

“Miguel?” your sleepy voice breaks the silence of the penthouse, gently killing that dread in Miguel's chest and replacing it with a calmness — alleviating his soul.

“Dulzura,” Miguel breathes out, before turning the light on in the hallway. He needs to make sure you're really here, that you’re not a figment of his imagination. Relief washes over him when the sight of you in your pajamas, looking sleepily at him, greets him. He instinctively steps closer.

“Migs?” you ask softly. “What's wrong? I heard you calling for me. Are you alright?” You search his body and face for signs of injury, but find none.

Miguel raises his hands, that relief taking over along with the need to touch you, to feel your body to fully confirm you’re in the flesh. He moves them closer until they're near your face, in a cupping form. His hands tremble.

“Migs?” you whisper, noticing his trembling hands, a sight that breaks your heart, and their proximity to your face along with how they seem to be ready to cup your cheeks. “Did you have a nightmare?” you ask gently.

Miguel nods. “One of the worst nightmares of my life,” he answers, his hands growing closer.

You watch intently, sleep fading away quickly due to Miguel’s trembling hands and the fact that he seems to be seeking physical contact.

And Miguel would’ve, if only Lyla hadn’t popped up out of nowhere.

“What’s going on?” she asks, looking around. “Oh, you’re awake?”

Miguel’s hands drop to his sides, realizing what he was going to do.

“I - what?” you ask, confused by the entire moment. Miguel was just about to cup your face and now you’re left here in the hallway with Lyla floating between you.

“What’s wrong, Lyla?” Miguel asks quietly.

“Your gizmo detected you talking while the recording you always play at night was active. It’s past three in the morning. It made no sense for you to be talking at this hour if you have the recording playing, so I figured you were having a nightmare, but I see you’re actually awake and talking with Y/N, so,” Lyla explains.

“It’s alright,” Miguel forces himself to say. “Everything is okay.”

Looking between Miguel and you, as if trying to make sure it’s true, Lyla nods. “Alright, have a good night, you two!” With that, Lyla disappears just as fast she appeared.

You blink softly and turn to Miguel, noticing a bit of perspiration and his tear-stained face. He still looks somewhat startled from his nightmare.

“Come with me?” you ask softly.

Miguel nods, already having an idea of where you’re both going.

A few minutes later, he’s sat on one of the chairs in the kitchen with you at his side. There’s a pot with water and a few cinnamon sticks on the stove and two mugs on the counter ready to be filled with sweet canelita [cinnamon tea].

You stay quiet to give Miguel a few minutes to gather himself, some time to calm down. You glance at his hands, noticing they’re thankfully no longer trembling, which puts you at ease. Earlier, you were still sleepy and startled by everything, but the sight of his shaking hands broke your heart. You wonder if he dreamed about Gabby again, about losing her.

You sigh quietly, deciding not to ask right now and continue to give Miguel a moment, at least until the canelita is ready.

A few minutes later, you silently pour the liquid into both mugs and add a bit of sugar, before returning to the counter with them. You place one in front of Miguel and offer him a smile, hoping to comfort him.

“Thank you,” Miguel says softly, tired. He picks up the mug and blows on it gently, accepting the kind and warm gesture.

You gently stir yours with a spoon, looking at him. “Always…” you reply softly, lifting your mug to your lips now and also blowing on it to cool it off a bit. After some seconds of debating internally, you decide to speak. “Do you want to talk about it?” you ask.

Miguel closes his eyes, feeling better now that he’s out of that horrible dream. His breathing has gone back to normal and his mind is clearer. He nods. “Yes…” he simply responds before Miguel tells you everything about his nightmare.

Despite looking better, his voice falters at some points, especially when he reaches the part where he saw you at the end but you didn’t recognize him.

“And then, I woke up,” Miguel says. “I was - I was - I had to make sure you are here… That’s why I was going to your room.”

You nod, your heart aching for Miguel. You can imagine what he felt — feels — when you place yourself in his shoes. You’d be hyperventilating if you had dreamed of that.

“I’m sorry you dreamed that,” you say softly, wondering what triggered it to begin with. “It was just a dream though,” you add, hoping to reassure him. “I’m here.”

Miguel nods, looking over at you. “I know, you’re here. Safe.” Miguel is eternally grateful for that.

“And that dream isn’t realistic because I would remember you,” you say, trying to lighten up the mood. “There’s no way I would forget about my best friend.”

Miguel slowly smiles for the first time since waking up. “You would still remember me?”

“Always. How could I forget you?” you reply. “You’re…” you smile and look away for a few seconds. “You’re one of the most important people in my life. My brain, maybe because of some unfortunate injury might for a short period of time, but… My heart will always know you, always remember you.”

Miguel’s smile widens, his heart filled with tenderness. He forgets all about his nightmare with your words for now, comforted. “My heart will always know you, too, Dulzura. In every universe.”

You both keep smiling before turning your attention to the drink, both feeling more at peace right now. The two of you take notice of the time. Like Lyla said earlier, it’s past three in the morning, almost four at this point.

Miguel and you silently realize something. You’ve been in bed for hours at this point, since ten to be exact, but only an hour ago you both managed to get some sleep. Nerves, disappointment, dread, and God knows what other emotions has kept the two of you up because of what awaits in a few hours.

Your return to your apartment.

After arriving back to Nueva York from the beach trip, Miguel and you finally talked about you moving out. You realized you needed to address it, or at least you thought you had to, so you did.

After discussing with Miguel that you’re moving back, which he accepted and understood, knowing it’s time, you both went to the apartment to clean it. He’s helped you deep clean the space and move some things around, trying to be a supportive friend. The only space left to clean is your living room and of course, you’ll have to unpack the belongings that are now sitting in Miguel’s living room, ready to be transported in a few hours back to your universe.

Despite your silent and respective realizations at the same time and the fact that you’ve only managed to sleep for an hour, if even that, neither of you mention anything about it. Neither of you share that you’re unhappy with the situation.

Miguel doesn’t want you to leave, to move back to your apartment, but he knows he can’t ask you not to. He knows how much the apartment means to you because of Peter and all the memories it holds. It’s a special place, Miguel knows that, so he won’t, even if he wishes he could.

Even if the words are threatening to spill at any moment from his mouth.

Next to him, you refuse to say what’s on your mind, too. You don’t want to move out, even if you love your apartment so much. You do, you really do.

You love your building.

You love your little apartment, its coziness and warmth.

But most of all, you love the memories made within those walls. The moments you shared with your family, back when your parents were alive along with Aunt May and of course, Peter.

Just days ago, you stood outside it on the street and saw phantom memories play in your mind, like a film. You saw Peter and yourself walking side by side chatting, grocery bags in his hands, and remembered how he always tried to hold most of them despite your superhuman strength. You watched the two of you enter the building, still talking. Up above, you saw the light from the living room turn on before images of Peter sprawled on the old couch, which is still stored in Miguel’s building, with you on top of him came to mind.

Within a few seconds, you found yourself physically inside your empty apartment. You stood in the living room, looking at everything you left behind. Miguel offered many times to help you take everything to his universe for the time being, but you declined each time. The things that truly matter are here at his universe right now, everything else you can do without.

You took a turn around the room, realizing.

You stayed here, despite the years, even when everyone moved on. Your former friends kept their relationships, or found new partners. Some of them even have children of their own. They moved on and you stayed here, in this lovely apartment building you happened to come across one day. It was pure coincidence and later that week, Peter and you came to check it out. The apartment had opened up and rent was good, perfect for two people fresh out of college. Shortly after, you moved in and hosted your housewarming party.

It had its details, its little flaws, but it was your place. Peter’s and yours.

And nothing sounded better than that.

But as you stood there a few days ago, you couldn’t help but see it differently. Something happened while you were gone and you don’t know what it was, not yet, but it felt different.

Different in a good way.

That’s all you knew in that moment before you remembered you had somewhere to be. After some time of debating and debating, you finally decided to give Harry Osborn a chance to be a part of your life again. You hadn’t seen him in weeks at that point because he was out of the country for some business, but with his return a few days ago and your own from the beach trip, you decided to say yes.

You sighed when you gave the space one more look, holding on to that feeling, before you slipped out, stopping outside the window. You glanced back, trying to decipher that feeling one more time.

You gave up and swung off without a second glance of that apartment building you came across so many years ago.

So, yes, you do love your apartment, but… You turn the mug with canelita in your hand. You’d be lying if you said you’re ready to move back. You swallow the words and take a drink instead, thinking it’s not right.

It’s not like Miguel and you can simply continue to live like this, right? You both have your own spaces and you don’t want to overstay, even if Miguel has told you many times that you’re welcomed. That his home is your home.

You both have your own homes, so it’s time for you to return to yours.

Right?

Right.

So, then, why are you both still disappointed?

Maybe it’s the lack of sleep. Maybe it’s the hour. Maybe these feelings will pass.

All Miguel and you know, respectively, is that the next fifteen or so hours are dreaded, but neither of you can say a thing out of respect for the other.

You both hide your true feelings about your move, thinking it’s the right thing to do.

Neither Miguel nor you say anything at four in the morning while drinking canelita. Not when you have breakfast together for the last time as his temporary roommate. Not when you both pick up your belongings and travel to your universe, knowing you’ve left a bedroom vacant of life once again. Not when Miguel and you deep clean the living room, move furniture around, and hang your pictures back again on the gallery wall.

Neither of you say anything, even when you order pizza for dinner after only eating sandwiches for lunch. At this point, everything is ready. Every single room in the apartment has been cleaned; surfaces have been dusted, the floors have been swept and mopped, furniture has been moved and found a new home within the space, and your belongings have been unpacked.

Your gallery of photographs is back. Peter’s record player sits on the bookcase and the records are back in its original spot. The box containing his belongings is back in the closet. Your clothes are in their appropriate spaces, though some laundry still needs to be done. Your personal hygiene items have taken residence in the bathroom and dresser once more.

Tomorrow you’ll just have to buy groceries to restock the now clean fridge.

You’re set to go, something you realize while having dinner with the TV on in the background. Miguel and you talk, avoiding your internal thoughts about this move, and opting to focus on other things — anything to forget that in a short while he’ll be leaving.

Yet, time reminds you both of the reality. The hours have flown by too fast.

When Miguel glances at his gizmo, he realizes he should probably head home now, but the truth is he doesn’t want to. He doesn’t want to leave you or your presence and go to an empty home that awaits him.

Noticing Miguel’s glance at his gizmo, makes you check the time yourself. You mentally wince. It’s getting late, and that only means Miguel will soon depart and leave you alone.

You push the feeling away, telling yourself that you shouldn’t even feel like this. This is your home after all. You should be happier to be here, to sleep on your old bed, not Gabriel’s.

Miguel frowns at the gizmo, it’s time.

“It’s late,” Miguel says slowly, noticing that his tone betrays his lack of enthusiasm to leave. “You’re probably very tired after all the cleaning we did. You should rest,” Miguel continues, telling himself to think of you. You’re probably tired and want to rest on your own bed at last after so many months of not doing so.

“I…” you trail off, wanting to say that you’re not tired, but you realize Miguel might be after helping you, and you don’t want to keep him up any longer. “Yes, a little.”

Miguel nods, your lie making him think he’s right about your exhaustion. He slowly stands up, straightening his top. He smiles at you. “I’ll let you rest, then,” he says, hesitantly reaching for his gizmo. “I’ll see you… tomorrow, maybe?” he says, not sure. Miguel realizes that he might not see you on both days of the weekend anymore, that you’ll both go back to your routines before the fire, in which you’d have Saturday dinners and see each other again until Monday at HQ.

“Yes, tomorrow. We can discuss what time to have dinner…?” you say, sounding more like a question as you stand, too.

“Yes, of course,” Miguel replies, nodding. He sighs and steps into a clearer area of your living room, opening a portal that takes him a few seconds to launch, not of out technical difficulties but because he’s stalling. “I’ll see you tomorrow, then. Rest, okay?”

Standing in front of him, you nod. You question why there’s a heavy feeling in your chest, one you don’t like, but hide with a smile. “I will, you, too.”

Stalling for several more seconds, Miguel finally takes a few steps back. “Bye,” he says, too softly, unwillingly.

“By-bye,” you say, stuttering a bit.

Miguel manages a smile, a small one despite his chest growing tighter. He turns around, forcing himself to or he might never leave. He stops himself from glancing back at you one more time because he has a feeling that if he does, he might just shut this damn portal and stay another hour. Or, two.

You watch gloomily as Miguel disappears into the portal, the sight obliging you to bite your lower lip because his name is at the tip of your tongue. You want to call out his name and ask him to stay another hour. Or, maybe two.

But you both refrain from doing what your bodies are begging you to do and in the end, you’re both alone in your homes with a portal that grows smaller and smaller unlike the heavy feeling in your chests.

You look around the apartment when the portal disappears entirely. This is home, but if it’s home, then why does it feel different? Something has changed in the space — something that now makes you feel like… It’s not yours entirely despite the furniture and memories you hold within it. You shake your head and decide to distract yourself with laundry, hoping it’ll help with that heavy feeling in your chest.

Back in Nueva York, Miguel gazes out of his living room’s windows. He sighs, noting the silence. There’s no music, no TV, no sound of your footsteps from somewhere - no sign of you here.

Miguel shakes his head. Okay, maybe that’s a lie. There’s traces of you across the penthouse because you helped him redecorate over the last few months. The penthouse feels better than it did in the past. There’s no denying that. It feels homier. He glances to Gabby’s altar, the candle flickering. That’s his favorite change to the penthouse, an addition you suggested on Gabby’s birthday.

There are signs of you in the penthouse, yet… Miguel turns around and faces the living room. Something left with you and now the penthouse feels different.

Miguel pushes the thoughts away. He can’t be thinking like this. It’ll do no good because it’s not like he can change anything about it. He can’t ask if you’re open to being roommates again, in a more permanent way. You love your apartment too much to leave it and Miguel would never ask you to abandon it, nor suggest some other kind of arrangement that involves you not living there. On top of that, you’re probably glad to have your own space again anyway.

He sighs again and looks at the time, realizing that just about now you’d be wishing each other a good night. His heart aches at the realization, knowing that you won’t be able to do that anymore, have that little endearing closure to the night.

“Shock,” Miguel says, realizing just how much your return to your own place is affecting him. He rubs his forehead, wondering how long it’ll take him to get used to this when his thoughts are interrupted by his gizmo. He hesitantly checks, hoping it’s not something from HQ because he doesn’t have the right mindset for it right now, but he finds your name instead and his heart leaps. He instantly opens the notification.

Dulzura Good night :)

He smiles, chuckling quietly to himself before he replies.

You sit on your bed, gizmo in hand while you wait. Of course you remembered that about this time you would’ve wished each other a good night, if only you were still there at the penthouse. You glance around the room again before laying down, the bed feeling strange now, too. A second later, your gizmo beeps, so you immediately bring it up to your face.

Migs Good night, Dulzura :)) sleep well

You smile, holding the gizmo close to you before you sigh. It’ll take some time to get used to this.

Miguel and you complete your night routines like every other night. You brush your teeth, wash your faces, and do the the rest of it as always until you get in bed, in respective universes.

You both lay to sleep, alone, in your homes.

That’s nothing new, of course. You’ve both slept alone for so long, but a loneliness creeps up on the two of you while you lay on your beds, unable to sleep. There was comfort, more than comfort, in knowing you were both down the hallway from each other — just feet away. Now, there’s universes between you.

You both try your best to sleep, but nothing works. For Miguel, not even your sweatshirt and the sound recording helps him.

Hours go by. You toss and turn, and do it again, and again, and again. Miguel wonders if you’re asleep now, then decides you must be. You’re sure Miguel is, too.

Another hour later and you can’t bear it any longer. It’s no use. You slip out of bed and change into your suit, placing your gizmo on your wrist. You leave your apartment a few minutes later in the middle of the night, ignoring the fact that you’re barely back at your apartment and for some reason leaving it in search of a distraction because you can’t sleep. You swing around your city, eyes scanning for a diversion of some kind. You almost wish there was a robbery.

Finding nothing, you stop on a rooftop and look through your gizmo. It’s past two in the morning and you’re here instead of home. You sigh and look around the empty rooftop before clicking on your gizmo again, quickly inputting information. A second later a portal opens. You step into it, leaving a rooftop just to step on another one.

You’re not even sure why you chose this dimension, but you find yourself on Earth-42, on top of the tallest building in the city where you once stood with Miguel to gaze at the city below and where you nearly lost him over a year ago.

You quietly walk around the area, staying clear of it because you don’t wish to sit where you found Miguel nearly dead, before sitting down with a huff.

“No sleep tonight,” you say to yourself, already giving up on the idea of getting some rest tonight. You slip off your mask, placing it on your thigh and lean back to observe the empty rooftop, surrounded by silence.

It doesn’t stay that way for long though. Your eyes widen when you see another portal open a few seconds later, making you wonder who’s stepping out. Your curiosity is satisfied a second later and you’re met with that familiar blue and red suit you know all too well, but the wearer of it even more.

Miguel steps out of the portal, his back to you. His eyes move across the rooftop, silently wondering why he even came here of all places. He decided to leave the penthouse a short while back and swung around Nueva York to distract and maybe tire himself out before deciding to travel here instead, something in his gut telling him to do so.

“Mi-Miguel?” you ask, causing him to turn around immediately.

His mask is disengaged instantly, his face revealed and indicating equal surprise. “Dulzura?” he says, walking immediately to you like a moth drawn to a flame. “What - what are you doing here? Are you okay? Are you hurt?” Miguel asks, bombarding you with questions while his gaze searches your body for signs of injury.

“No, no, I’m okay,” you quickly reassure him, noticing the way his face relaxes at your words. “What are you doing here? Is everything alright?”

“Yes, everything is okay. What are you doing here?” Miguel asks again, crouching in front of you now.

“I asked you the same thing,” you reply softly, trying to get Miguel to answer first because you’re suddenly too embarrassed to share that you couldn’t sleep, or rather, share the reason why.

Miguel mumbles something under his breath, not wanting to tell you his reasoning for being awake either. “I couldn’t - I had some trouble sleeping tonight,” he admits a few seconds later. “You?”

You sigh. “I couldn't sleep either,” you confess, looking down to fidget with your mask.

Miguel's eyes widen a little. For some reason, he didn't think that would be the reason for you being here, considering you hardly have issues sleeping. “Why?” Miguel asks softly, noticing the way you're avoiding his gaze. “Did you… have a nightmare?”

“Oh,” you glance at him again, shaking your head. “No, no, I didn't. I just couldn't sleep at all. I haven't slept even a bit. Maybe it's just, I don't know, my brain being weird,” you huff out. “Wait - did you have one?” You ask softly, remembering that about twenty four hours ago, Miguel was having that nightmare about you not existing.

Thankfully, Miguel shakes his head. “No, no nightmares for me. I just couldn't sleep,” he says, moving and taking a seat next to you now, leaning back.

“I'm glad to hear that,” you reply, genuinely relieved it wasn't another bad nightmare like the one he had several hours ago. You recall how Miguel’s hands trembled, the way he looked at you, and his erratic breathing. Of course, the fact that he almost cupped your face comes to mind, too. You wonder if Miguel would've gone for it, if Lyla hadn't popped out of nowhere.

You both sit there now, on that same rooftop Miguel nearly lost his life at over a year ago. Your eyes sweep across the city, staying silent for a few minutes before Miguel breaks the silence.

“May I be honest?” he asks softly.

“Always, please,” you reply.

“I couldn't sleep because I missed — I missed you and your presence,” Miguel confesses with some trouble, his cheeks feeling warm due to the revelation.

You turn to look at him, smiling slowly. “Already?”

“Already.”

“I missed you, too, Migs,” you admit, smiling.

Miguel smiles now, sleepily. “You did?”

“Yes, I did.”

“It's relieving to know I'm not the only one,” he says, comforted, but also touched that you've been missing him, too. “I’m sorry you haven't slept, though. Are you not tired?” Miguel asks, his eyes searching your face.

You nod now, feeling some exhaustion within you that wasn't there earlier.

Miguel hums, still staring at you and thinking about how you’re both far more comforted with each other on this open rooftop in the late hours of the night than alone in the safety and comfort of your respective beds. He smiles softly when he notices your gaze become more and more sleepy.

“Maybe we need to…” Miguel starts quietly, thinking. “Maybe we need — or should consider — something.”

“Something?” you ask before a small yawn escapes your lips.

“We’re on a rooftop, instead of at home,” Miguel states, raising his eyebrow.

You nod, realizing what Miguel is saying. You missed each other on the first night and found yourselves in another universe without even planning it because neither of you could sleep. You wonder if Miguel is thinking what you’re thinking about.

“What are you suggesting?” you ask, intrigued.

“We can discuss it tomorrow, or well, later,” Miguel replies gently with a smile, glad that you seem interested on this ‘something’, too. “How about we leave this place?”

Leave? That’s the last thing you wish to do now that you’re in Miguel’s presence, but you can’t just stay on this rooftop all night, can you? “Home?” you ask, disappointed.

“Home,” Miguel says, standing up in seconds and offering you a hand to help you up.

You accept it and stand up with his help, dreading going home. You’re likely just going to stay up anyway. However, you nod to avoid showing your disappointment, even when Miguel opens a portal for you. He gestures with his hand towards it.

“Alright, we can discuss the something else later,” you say, stepping closer to the portal.

“We can. When we get some rest,” Miguel replies gently as you walk further in.

“Right, okay,” you mumble. “After some rest.”

You sigh subtly and step into the portal, touching ground again a second later. You look around, eyes going a little wide. Behind you, Miguel steps out of the portal, too, and straight into his penthouse’s living room.

Home.

You turn around to face him, surprised, and Miguel can only give you a sleepy grin.

“You can go upstairs to your bedroom, or we can stay here in the living room,” Miguel offers, feeling sleepy at last. He very briefly recalls something Lyla said a while back. Something about important people in your lives bringing you comfort and making it easier to sleep. Maybe that study was right after all because he’s suddenly feeling sleepy within a few minutes of being in your presence after he spent hours laying in bed, tossing and turning, helplessly seeking sleep but not finding it. Despite feeling sleepy, Miguel realizes he’s still not ready to part ways, even if it’s just rooms apart.

“I’m still not that tired,” you lie, not ready either.

“Me neither,” Miguel lies, too. “So… Living room?”

You nod. “Living room.”

“Do you want something to drink?” Miguel asks. “I can make some canelita.”

Half an hour later, Miguel and you sit on the living room floor. This time, though, you’re both sitting on the same side of the coffee table. There’s blankets and pillows on the couch behind you for later, but for now, you talk while enjoying the warm drink — growing sleepier and sleepier in each other’s presence when you couldn’t feel even an ounce of sleep before.

“It’s almost fall,” you state sleepily before taking a drink.

“Almost that time of year,” Miguel replies, realizing it’s true. The summer will soon end, another season approaching your lives. “The best time of the year.”

You chuckle. “Pumpkins everywhere, cold weather, sweaters — the best time of the year indeed.” You yawn.

“You’re sleepy,” Miguel comments, glancing at you.

“I’m not,” you counter softly.

“Right,” he replies, amused.

“I’m not. I’m just — yawning.”

“Because you’re sleepy,” Miguel says, noticing the way you’re blinking to stay awake.

You hum. “Nope, I’m still wide awake.” You yawn once more. “Do you remember the puzzle we completed last week? At the beach?”

“Yes, of course,” Miguel replies, sleepily. How could he forget? You both discussed something so personal while putting it together.

“I think I’m going to buy some,” you share, eyes feeling heavy.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Do you want to, maybe, do another one with me?” you ask, half awake and half asleep.

“It’d be a privilege,” Miguel replies, gazing at you sleepily.

“Yayyy, maybe I can find a jigsaw of a thousand pieces.”

Miguel chuckles next to you, noticing the way you’re leaning back. “I’m sure we can put it together in two or three days.”

“That sounds reasonable,” you state, unwillingly succumbing to sleep. “I’ll buy some this weekend.”

“I can get some, too,” Miguel says, picking up his mug to take a drink and stay awake. “If you want to come along you —” Miguel stops talking when he feels something on his bicep. He turns, still holding his mug with the other hand.

His gaze softens when he realizes you’ve fallen asleep on him and now your head rests on his arm after claiming not to be sleepy only a minute ago. He quietly chuckles through his nose to avoid waking you up. After putting his mug away, Miguel gently pulls the blankets off the couch and places them over the two of you before he gets comfortable, ready to give in to his sleep, too.

He relishes the warmth of your body next to his, knowing that later today, maybe you’ll both agree to something because sleepless nights are no way to live. Miguel knows that better than anyone else. While the Miguel of two years ago sought those nights because they were a refuge from his nightmares, the Miguel next to you now does not. He’s open to staying up late to talk or watch a movie with you, or something of that sort, but staying up to avoid sleep and nightmares?

Not anymore.

Never again.

And so, Miguel finally dozes off next to you, sleeping peacefully at last and without nightmares of losing you.

Previous ⋅ ♡ ─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ── ♡ ⋅ Next

A/N: Ummm, this is weird...? I'm back already, so, hiiiii! Another update is here! I hope you don't hate me after the first half of this chapter 😔 it was just a dream! But hehe, thank you for reading!! Also, thank you so much for the lovely comments on the last update! I have yet to reply to everyone because I had the motivation to write this chapter and basically I've been doing this all day, but I'm so happy a lot of you enjoyed it and liked the latter part of the chapter!! :))

Thank you again so much!! See you very soon...!!😌

Alondra❤️

taglist:

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@rorel1a @oceanstar19 @happishark @carmilla01 @somebodyelsethanyouthink @adora-but-ginger @angie2274 @vampi-amora @tired-writer04 @plzfeedmebread @shadow-pancake9 @tynakub @faretheeoscar @giulscomix @luvstuffies @coffeeauthorvibing @lauraolar14 @bl0osclues @pinkiemme @lil-cinn @mashiromochi @loveletterfrommwah @muzansucker @theleftkittycollection @kikookii @www-interludeshadow-com @holographicang3l @aisyakirmann @bucky-to-my-barnes @geraskier-thots @l3laze @yujyujj

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credit for green divider to @/vysleix

#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x y/n #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara imagine #atsv x reader #atsv miguel #miguel o'hara fanfiction #spiderman 2099 #miguel spiderman #miguel spiderverse #nonviolent communication #soft!Miguel O'Hara

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coolemmasulivan2 · 3 months ago

Text

Rewinding Us | 4

Pairing: Mason Mount x Reader

Summary: You and Mason built a love story over five years, but after an accident, your memories are wiped away, including any feelings for your constant bickering "rival". Can you remember your love story with Mason, or will you have to start all over?

Word count: 2523

YYou can read more chapters here.

You are the only one I'll ever love Looking back on my life You're the only good I've ever done (ever done) Yeah, you, if it's not you, it's not anyone (anyone) Not anyone

The weather in Manchester was unpredictable, providing you with both happiness and annoyance. When you longed for the chill of winter, the sun would shine and when you craved a dose of vitamin D, the sky would unleash an amount absurd of rain. Today was no exception. It was August and it felt like nature was teasing your wish for some sunshine.

You returned home after a long day at work, packed with groceries for dinner. It had been a week since you'd returned to Manchester, and tonight, you were finally going to see Mason again. He had a reason to visit, something to pick up from the house and since you were aware of everything, he'd simply asked instead of sneaking in when you weren't home.

Since your last encounter, Mason had encouraged you to reach out whenever you had questions about your shared history. True to his word, you had bombarded him with texts, curious about the memories that were slowly coming back to you. The most recent memory had occurred at three in the morning when you dreamed about a dog.

You: Did we had a dog?

Mason was fast asleep when his phone buzzed, the sound jolting him awake. Without moving his face, he reached out and grabbed the phone, his fingers fumbling in the darkness. As he saw your name on the screen, his heart skipped a beat. Worry gnawed at him as he unlocked the phone, fearing the worst.

When he read your question, his relief turned into a mix of amusement.

"She's going to kill me!" He muttered, sinking back into the pillow.

He quickly typed out a reply, attaching a photo of Ace.

Mason: We still do! His name is Ace.

The photo showed Ace sitting beside you by the pool, your smile bright and infectious. Seeing the image, you couldn't help but smile.

That night, you bombarded Mason with questions about Ace, your curiosity insatiable. Later that day, when you turned on the TV and saw him preparing for a match, you let out a curse. You'd completely forgotten about his game. He'd stayed up late, answering your endless questions, when he should have been resting.

Today, knowing Mason was coming over, you asked if he could bring Ace and without even realizing it, you ended up inviting him to dinner. It wasn't a romantic dinner, you kept reminding yourself. Just 'friends' having a meal.

Since the kiss you exchanged in the car, you couldn't stop thinking about him. The constant texting wasn't helping. One moment, you'd despise him, and the next, you'd be imagining what lay beneath his clothes.

Cooking had always been your therapy, you were always good at it, so that wasn't the problem. What made you nervous was not knowing what to wear. A dress? You were at home. It wasn't a date. Why did it matter?

"Just wear something casual but nice." Your friend and coworker, Dianne, said over FaceTime. "Like a blouse or a nice shirt. I mean, Mason would probably love you even if you were wearing a potato sack."

You threw the long summer dress you were holding onto the bed. "You're not helping." You muttered.

"I'm just telling you the truth." She insisted. "That man is so head over heels for you, he wouldn't notice if someone else was in the room."

A blush crept across your face. It was nice to hear those kinds of things, to know you were loved and appreciated. Your past relationships had been a series of disappointments, but with Mason, it seemed different.

"Since we came back, I can't stop thinking about him." You admitted, running your hands through your hair. "It's like… something clicked when he told me we used to date. Sometimes I want to punch his stupid face but at the same time I…"

"At the same time, you want to jump on him." Your friend finished your thought.

You groaned, falling back onto the bed. "I hate this!" You exclaimed, tossing your phone onto the mattress making Dianne face the ceiling.

"Girl, I've seen your relationship with Mason. You love him, and he loves you. You're that perfect couple who's still in their honeymoon phase, and it's inspiring to watch." She said, her voice filled with admiration. You listened attentively, her words sinking in. "Don't be afraid to approach him." She encouraged you.

You thanked her for her support and ended the call.

Gathering the clothes from the bed, you opted for a pair of nice jeans and a floral tank top. The weather outside was miserable, but inside the house, it was warm and cosy.

The food was in the oven, and you were chopping tomatoes and onions for the salad when the doorbell rang, making you jump. Ace's excited woof echoed outside the house.

Drying your hands, you hurried to the door barefoot, nearly tripping over the rug. Taking a deep breath, you opened the door.

A wave of happiness washing over you as you saw Ace running towards you, his tail wagging furiously. He'd missed you, that was clear.

You crouched down, welcoming Ace's enthusiastic jumps and licks. Dogs had always been your favourite, growing up with more than one back in the day when you lived with your parents. You spent a few minutes showering him with affection, your worries - or even Mason - temporarily forgotten.

"Hello, Ace." You said, stroking his soft fur. "You're so pretty, you big goofball." Ace's tail wagged with happiness. His eyes, filled with love and adoration, mirrored your own emotions.

Mason stood behind and watched you interact with Ace, a tender smile playing on his lips. His love for you was evident in his gaze.

"Hi." You managed to squeak out, your voice barely audible.

"Hi." He replied, his voice equally soft.

You stood up, Ace disappearing into the house. You tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, your nerves showing. Mason mirrored your posture, his hands stuffed in his hoodie pockets.

"Come in!" You insisted, opening the door wider.

Mason mumbled a thank you and stepped inside, the familiar scent of home washing over him. "It smells good." He commented as the smell from the kitchen hit him.

You closed the door behind him and smiled. "Thank you. Dinner's almost ready. I was just finishing the salad."

He followed you into the kitchen. "Need help?" He asked.

"No, you can sit." You replied, continuing with the salad as he sat on a stool by the kitchen island. "Thank you for bringing Ace."

Mason watched as Ace wandered around the kitchen, his tail wagging happily. "Why don't I let him stay here and see if you feel the same way after." He suggested a playful glint in his eye. You stopped cutting the onion, your eyes locking with his. "It was a joke, Y/n." He added, sensing your reaction.

"But he can stay!" You persisted, your eyes sparkling. "I love dogs."

Mason chuckled, his heart melting. "He's your dog too." He said. "It's only fair to share custody."

You grinned, looking down at Ace. "Did you hear that, goofball? You're staying with me!" Ace's tail wagged with enthusiasm. Mason couldn't help but smile at the heartwarming interaction.

Mason had placed the salad on the table when the oven timer beeped. You grabbed the oven gloves and started walking towards the oven, but Ace, catching you by surprise, ran between your legs, causing you to lose your balance.

"ACE!" Mason shouted, his voice filled with both irritation and concern. He quickly reached out, his arm wrapping around your waist and pulling you towards him. Your back pressed against his strong chest and you could feel his warm breath against your ear. "Are you okay?" He asked, his voice laced with worry.

His hand rested on your belly, his warmth seeping through your tank top. For a moment, you felt an overwhelming urge to turn around and kiss him, but you resisted, your heart pounding in your chest. "I'm fine." You whispered, your voice barely audible. "Thank you."

You didn't step away, and neither did he. The warmth of his body against yours was comforting, a familiar sensation that sent a shiver down your spine. You stood there for a moment, lost in the moment until Ace's loud woof broke the spell.

As Mason stepped away, you felt a pang of disappointment. "Let me help you." He offered, taking the oven gloves from your hands.

He carefully removed the food from the oven and placed it on the table. You both sat down, the aroma of the meal filling the air. Ace sat at your feet, his tail wagging hopefully.

The dinner passed in a blur, the awkwardness of the beginning replaced by a comfortable ease. Mason's ability to make you laugh was infectious, and before you knew it, hours had flown by.

As you cleaned up the rest of the kitchen, Mason reminded you of the time. "It's getting late." He said, glancing at the clock. "I guess I should go get my things." You nodded, a pang of disappointment settling in. He dried his hands on the kitchen cloth after helping you and then disappeared upstairs.

You didn't want him to leave. The thought of staying alone in the big house again made you feel unsettled. Having him by your side felt comforting and familiar, and you didn't want that to change.

Ace, curled up on the living room rug, looked up at you. "Guess it's just you and me, goofball." You said, playing with his fur.

A chill had settled in the air, and you shivered involuntarily, so you grabbed the blue Nike hoodie you had left in the bathroom and you pulled it on.

As you sat down on the sofa, Ace eagerly joined you, his head resting on your lap. You turned on the TV, the soft glow illuminating the room.

Mason's footsteps sounded from the hallway. "Y/n?" he called out.

"In the living room." You replied.

"Have you seen a blue hoo--?" He stopped when he saw you wearing the hoodie he was looking for.

You shifted uncomfortably. "Is it your hoodie?" You asked him, realizing why the hoodie was so big on you. "Sorry, I didn't know." You grabbed the ends, ready to take it off, but Mason quickly stopped you.

"It's fine." He said, a playful glint in his eye. "It looks better on you anyway."

You blushed, feeling a warmth spread through your cheeks. "But you wanted it."

"It's fine. I have plenty." He insisted.

"But--"

"Y/n--"

"You can hav--"

"It was an excuse!" He said and you looked at him.

"What?"

Mason ran his hand through his hair. "I found what I was looking for yesterday in one of my suitcases, but you had already invited me over, so, my excuse was going to be the blue hoodie… You have on."

"Oh." You looked at him as he looked down in embarrassment.

"The things I do just to be with you." He whispered. He let out a shy chuckle and you gave him a smile. "Sorry."

"You don't need to apologize. I get it. This was your life for five years and I took it from you."

Mason shook his head. "You didn't! The man that hit your car did. It's not your fault." You looked at him, not knowing what to say. Mason took your hand and held it tightly. "We didn't do anything wrong."

You looked down at your hand in his, feeling a warmth spread through you. Your eyes met his, and a smile crept across your face. "Do you want to watch a movie? I know it's late, but you can sleep in the guest room," you suggested.

Mason smiled, his gaze lingering on your face. "I'd like to, but I have training tomorrow morning." He replied.

A blush crept across your cheeks. "Oh, yeah, right."

He took a step closer, his hand still holding yours. "But I would like to take you on a date." He said, his eyes filled with sincerity. "If you want, of course."

Your heart skipped a beat. "I-I would like that." You stammered, your voice barely audible.

Mason squeezed your hand. "Good!" He said, a wide smile spreading across his face. "I'll call you." You nodded. He looked down at Ace and petted him. "You're staying with Y/n, buddy! It's your job to protect her, okay?" The dog gave him his paw and you laughed.

"I'll walk you out." You offered.

You followed him toward the front door. "Just to be clear," He started, stopping himself when you opened the door. "I'm asking you out because I love you and I want you back. It doesn't matter if you don't have your memories back. I want you to fall in love with me again, so, I'm going to do whatever it takes for that to happen." He said. You felt like your legs were going to give up as he leaned in and kissed you softly on the cheek. "Good night, Y/n!"

"Good night, Mason!"

You watched Mason's car disappear down the driveway, a wave of sadness washing over you. You closed the door and leaned against it, letting out a sigh.

A few weeks ago, if someone had suggested you would develop feelings for Mason, you would have laughed in their face. The idea had been absurd, but here you were, feeling sad after seeing him leave.

As you sat down on the sofa, Ace joined you once again. "Do you like Mason, goofball?" The dog looked up at you, his ears perking up at the mention of his favourite human and let out a joyful woof. "Me too! Me too!"

Half an hour later, you were lost in thought when the doorbell rang, startling you out of your trance. Standing up, you approached the door and swung it open, your surprise evident as you saw Mason standing on the doorstep.

"Hey, is everything okay? Did you forget something?" You asked, your voice laced with concern.

Mason's gaze flickered between your eyes and your lips, a hint of something unsaid lingering in his expression. "I re- I remembered you didn't have Ace's food." He stuttered, his words stumbling over each other.

"Oh." You replied, disappointment washing over you. "You want to take him back!"

"No, no. It's not that." He said quickly, shaking his head. He went back to his car and returned with a bag of dog food.

You watched him, a knowing smile playing on your lips. "You didn't have to." You said, your voice soft.

He shrugged, his cheeks reddening. "I thought it would be nice."

Your heart swelled with warmth. "Thank you, Mason." You looked at him, your heart pounding in your chest. "You're sure you don't want to stay over?" You asked, your voice barely a whisper.

Mason hesitated, his eyes locking with yours. He took a deep breath, his chest rising and falling. "I'll stay." He smiled and said, his voice barely audible.

Relief washed over you, a smile spreading across your face, as you closed the door.

#footballer imagine #footballer x reader #football imagine #footballer x y/n #mason mount fluff #mason mount x reader #mason mount imagines #mason mount imagine #mason mount #mm7 #Rewinding Us

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beautyfineshopparis · 2 years ago

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shegatsby · 7 months ago

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Love Thy Enemy

Summary; Y/N Atreides had always been a stranger to the entire galaxy, her bed wasn’t her bed, her home wasn’t her home due to the fact that she was sent to accompany and be sisters with Irulan. She had limited access to her actual family and over the years they grew distant. She thought she would be like Reverend Mother, alone, yet powerful, and soon she would realize that there was no need of being alone when a wild creature had his eyes on her for a long time.

A/n; How i missed yu guys! Finally im free from family issues and i can continue this series. I hope you enjoy it. SMUT in the future chapters, i promise, don't forget to share your thoughts with me. xxx

TAG LIST IS OPEN! (let me know if i forgot to tag you)

Warnings; Baron being a weirdo.

Words; 3.584K

Chapter Five ''A Delicious Meal''

Feyd-Rautha Harkonenn didn’t know what to do, she was in his arms.. at least one of his long time wishes came true but he would’ve preferred a better scenario, he carried her to his king sized bed, covered in black silk, as soon as he laid her gently he called for his most trusted doctor. The man was tiny and bald, his eyes were jet black and had no whites, he had been serving Harkonnens for years. Feyd was standing a step away, watching carefully, he watched the doctor examine Y/N, Feyd’s eyes never leaving her body and to see if the doctor ever dared to touch her inappropriately. ‘’Due to change of climate and stress Lady Y/N’s body lost significant amount of vitamins, it is most likely she has been skipping meals. I’m going to give her some pills to boost her energy, she must also finish her meals.’’ He placed a container of pills on the side table and bowed to leave, when the family doctor left Feyd found himself pulling a chair to observe Y/N sleep. Their fight in his twisted mind, the thought he had was he was right till she fainted into his arms. Maybe she was… No.

He dismissed these strange thoughts. She was in his domain an she had to follow his rules and obey. ‘’Little dove..’’ he caressed her long Y/H/C hair, he had always been enamored by her lush hair, so beautiful and vivid. Whenever he got a chance of seeing her he would observe her hair and how it bounced and rippled like the waves of Caladan, her home.. not anymore. As children, Feyd, Y/N, Irulan and sometimes Paul were left alone when adults were talking business, their nannies would be present of course but they were free to play together. Feyd-Rautha would chase her, pull her hair to annoy her. He loved to get reactions out of her whilst they grew up their interactions got limited. They had to be present at certain meetings such as balls, ceremonies etc.

His mind wandered to a distant memory…

At his 16th birthday it was Feyd’s first time at the arena, it was a Harkonnen tradition, so the important houses were invited. He had been training for years and it was his time to shine, bring fame and glory to his family and also prove a ‘’certain someone’’ that he had become a man, someone she could notice finally. When he entered the arena his animalistic lust for blood made his body electric, the black sun was at the top, making the arena look like a glowing white desert. He had his black uniform and combat boots which made him look much taller, he could hear the crowd’s cheer, they were ordered to cheer for him but still, he bathed in it.

He greeted the houses who were seated at the private chambers, he could see her

Time to impress.

He didn’t forget to activate his shield and the games began, prisoners were released from the doors to the arena, they were injected sedatives to make sure Feyd would be safe. He was there to butcher.

With every kill the white sand got covered in blood and stick to his boots, with every kill he was cheered, celebrated. At the end of the duel he was dipped in his enemies’ blood head to toe. He bowed and let the fame wash him away in ecstasy. He gained the popularity of his people and the houses that came to watch him. He was sure he was going to get marriage deals one after the other. When he lifted his head, he noticed that her seat was empty, she was gone. Why? Before the feast he was determined to find her and confront her.

He bathed very quickly, got dressed and left his chambers. He asked guards of her guest chambers and got no answers, he tried her maids and again, no answer. He was irritated, where could she be?

‘’My Lord, you’re asked by Reverend Mother.’’ A servant came to inform him, he had to put this pursuit aside for a while.

Reverend Mother was in her chambers, she travelled here with Emperor’s politicians. She was standing, her long black dress sweeping the clean floor. Her face was covered in laced veil, she waited for servants to leave them alone. ‘’Activate silence.’’ She ordered and a shield surrounded them, no one could hear them, ‘’You have fought well.’’ She began, ‘’Our order puts faith in you, young Harkonnen.’’ He didn’t interrupt her, unlike Rabban, he had wits about him. ‘’You would be a worthy match for one of our sisters We are watching you and her closely. You may be dismissed.’’ He left.

He had a feeling that sister is someone he had his eyes on her since they were children. With a smirk he roamed the halls of his fortress of black and white. He had an idea, his legs moved towards the chapel, almost no one prayed or believed in something other than violence on this planet.

The room was silent, there she was on her knees praying. Her long violet dress bunched up on her knees, he watched her pray. It made him curios, what was she praying for? He wanted to give her a reason to be on her knees but he kept his eccentric ideas to himself and keep his wide awake manhood in check. Ever since venom of being a teenager entered his body he had fun having these thoughts of her, of course he had his concubines to warm his bed and yet they weren’t enough, he had a thirst only she could quench.

Y/N rose to her feet as she finished praying, he cleared his throat to get her reaction, she turned to face him. He was standing tall, hands clasped behind his back, ‘’I have noticed your absence at my coming of age celebration Lady Y/N.’’ he began, his snake like eyes trapped her in, ‘’Is something to matter?’’ he was genuinely wondering. Her gaze was distant, he could see the work of Bene Gesserit on her, ‘’Maybe I didn’t want to see prisoners getting killed.’’ She replied coldly, ‘’But you promised to-‘’ she cut him short, ‘’I have seen eough. Good day, Na-Baron.’’ And she left the chapel, leaving him in shock… no one dared to stood up to him before and there she was with her lioness fire.

Y/N was gaining consciousness, opening her eyes slowly, the room was too quiet, her eyes travelled in the room to see him sitting on a chair, in reverse position and watching her, his hands resting on the back of the chair loosely, she was in his bed chambers. ‘’What happened?’’ she moved to rest her back on the headboard, pulling her legs towards her, ‘’Change of climate, stress and skipping meals.. you will be under surveillance. I’ve ordered your maids to bring your belongings here, you’re going to stay with me from now on.” She could feel the heat on her face, ‘’But Harkonnen traditions say that-‘’ Feyd bolted to his feet, ‘’To hell with the traditions, your health comes first,’’ when he noticed the questioning look from her, he added ‘’you are to birth my heirs. End of discussion.’’ With the mention of heirs her blood ran cold in her veins, she had been specifically avoiding the concept ever since her fate was decided for her, it seemed Feyd was the opposite. She wondered if she could leave after birthing his heirs… her heart told her that she was humane enough to stay and care for her offspring, she couldn’t abandon them, unlike Feyd she wasn’t a monster.

Y/N Atreides watched him take his leave, after the door closed she took advantage of being alone in his chambers, his bedroom consisted of a balcony, metal wardrobe, a skin of a bear on the floor, it made her sick. The fire place was empty since it was a warm day, her maids and servants started o carry her belongings one by one, she didn’t mind them and moved to the living room side, the room was more colorful than the bedroom, by color; black, white, dark blue and grey here and there. A long table which was made of Giedi Prime’s famous tree, Pilingitam, placed close to the large window overlooking the city, the tree’s color was lime-green and it gave a strange pop of color to the room. A basket of fresh fruit just placed by a servant girl, she looked shy, her head bowed, not making eye contact ‘’Our Na-Baron has ordered to keep fresh fruit for everyday my Lady Atreides.’’ Y/N could see the blush on the girls pale cheeks, ‘’I understand.’’ She also noticed how other servants’ behavior changed with this knowledge, Y/N deduced that they weren’t used to see their Na-Baron being ‘’thoughtful’’.

She was suspicious of the fruit basket, she picked a green grape and smelled it, it had no unusual smell, she bit the grape and it’s sweet juice immediately filled her mouth, Y/N was stunned, it was delicious, she assumed the fruit is exported from somewhere else hence Giedi Prime wasn’t known for its luscious fruit trees. She sat on the chair, turned to watch the scenery before her on the large window and ate.

‘’My Na-Baron!’’ Feyd-Rautha’s servant ran, out of breath, he was in the training grounds, sharpening his favorite blade, ‘’Lady Y/N settled perfectly and ate the fruit you sent you had sent.’’ He smiled wickedly, sowing teeth, he saw his reflection on the shiny blade which was about to be dipped in blood, he nodded to the servant and dismissed him. He focused on his training all day until his uncle Baron Vladimir Harkonnen marched in through the heavy doors, the doors smacked against the stone walls and made him turn to his uncle. ‘’What is the meaning of this?!’’ his uncle yelled, floating in the air thanks to his high tech machine, ‘’What do you mean uncle?’’ Feyd pretended like he had no idea, they were under the Giedi Prime’s black sun, the heat didn’t compare to the heat of Arrakis yet it was enough to finish his training and together they moved to a private room. ‘’I’ve heard that Atreides girl will be staying with you. Tell me,’’ he pressed to lean in, Feyd had to look up, he hated looking up at him all his life. ‘’Dear nephew, do you care for this girl?’’ he had to be careful, Feyd bought time by cleaning his sweat covered chest, his muscles attracted the Baron’s attention for a second, he had to be careful, if his uncle suspected anything she would be in danger, he loved to torment her and she was his to torment, not someone else’s. His uncle had no tolerance for ‘’caring’’ his only passion was to keep his house’s powerful stance and leave a might legacy behind.

‘’All my life I’ve fulfilled your orders uncle.’’ Feyd began, he throw the towel away, his blue eyes focused on his uncle with distaste and fire, ‘’You and witches of Bene Gesserit told me to marry the Atreides girl and that’s what I intend to do, you ask for heirs to leave our house one day and that is what I shall do.’’ He explained his voice cold and uninterested. ‘’She is only an object to use and cultivate and I, as her husband-to-be, have to keep her physical health at best, her mental health is not my interest.’’ He didn’t break his composure, looking up at his uncle and he bowed to him, to show loyalty. ‘’That’s my boy. You may rise.’’ Baron left him there, pleased.

Feyd sat on the stone bench, his sweat cooling down, he had to be extra careful when it came to his uncle, Baron Vladimir was known for his cunning mind and sinister plans. Feyd had to be able to protect his wife and children in the future and it seemed near… he thought he could manage his uncle’s plans…

Y/N Atreides didn’t do much that day, she was still tired and in shock. She didn’t want to remember his gruesome ‘’gift’’ or their fight, her main problem at the moment was Feyd’s decision of staying together… in his chambers… she found herself pacing in his bedroom, the sun was setting, leaving the landscape of industry in darkness, she could see the lamps in the city were being lit one by one, at a distance ships were landing or taking off, those were the spice ships, all over the galaxy every living being’s destiny was bound to spice… including her. The door was knocked and opened, she turned to face the servant, she assumed it was a servant because Na-Baron had no manners such as knocking on the door. The servant bowed, ‘’Dinner shall be served soon, our Lord Na-Baron is expecting her ladyship to join him.’’ She had no choice but to obey his request. ‘’Tell my maids to come and dress me.’’ Her plan was to be silent, eat and go to sleep… somewhere except his bed.

Her personal maids dressed her in black, they said she had to represent her husband-to-be’s house, she despised the color and yet when she looked at herself on the tall mirror, she looked powerful. The dress was long with long sleeves, had a nice cut on her chest, her hair was braided Atreides style, loose and fluffy, her maids left and she approached to the door of the living room.

The fire place was lit, he was standing by the window, his back turned to her, his hands clasped at his back, Y/N literally saw his ears prick up like a hellhound. He turned confidently, his posture straight and he is covered in black clothing just like her, ‘’Finally.’’ He greeted her with a victorious smile, eyes roaming over her body, she felt his blue orbits shooting at her, table was set, candles lit. Did he really made the servants light candles instead of glowglobes? She couldn’t ignore how the candles changed the mood in the room, more serene yet with a touch of expectation of something new.

He moved to the other side of the tale to move her chair for her to sit, without a word she walked and sat, as he was pushing the chair back to its place she could feel his breath on her neck, burning her, ‘’I have to admit, you look ravishing in that dress.’’ His breath lingered for few more seconds which felt eternity, she kept her silence, eyes forward, he chuckled to himself and moved to the other side of the table and sat. ‘’How is your health?’’ he casually asked, getting ready to eat the meat before him, her eyes moved to the table, she also had rare cooked meat on her plate, when she moved the meat eith her fork she could see the blood under it, it made her sick so she looked up to him, Feyd was waiting for an answer, he noticed her expression change, ‘’I feel much better.’’ She replied, Feyd began to eat like a man starved, ‘’I had my training all day,’’ she didn’t ask but he was explaining anyways, ‘’fighting makes me starve like wolves.’’ It seemed so, she was in utter shock how he can eat that rare meat… Feyd remembered his conversation earlier with his uncle and went silent.

‘’Start eating,’’ he noticed that she still didn’t touch her food, ‘’or,’’ he continued but Y/N cut him off, ‘’Or you will kill another servant to teach me a lesson?’’ she sarcastically said, still traumatized by that incident. His presence made her feel uneasy, he was the reason why she had to leave everything behind and it made her blood boil in despise. Y/N heard Feyd’s chuckle, ‘’Or I will feed you myself.’’ He finished.

A mental image flashed in her mind’s eye, thanks to Bene Gesserit mind work she could imagine more vividly than normal people, in the image Feyd was sitting next to her, very close, abnormally close and feeding her slowly, wiping her lips with his thumb and sucking it, there was a sexual undertone to this image, she pinched her skin to wake up.

‘’No, thank you.’’ Couldn’t help but wonder his idea, she began eating fruit, totally avoiding the bloody meat, her senses were high so she could smell the blood unfortunately, ‘’Is settling in over?’’ Feyd asked, he was leaning on his chair, holding a goblet of red wine, his eyes shining like diamonds under the candle lights, ‘’We are disobeying the traditions. We should unite when we get married. I do not wish to attract unwanted attention than it is.’’ Y/N was being honest, ‘’Unite,’’ he said with a wicked smile, ‘’We can unite right now on this very tableif you please, little dove.’’ He drank his wine watching her startled expression, her slightly opened pretty mouth but she recovered quickly, ‘’I am settling in just fine.’’ She ignored his comment. ‘’I wish to learn the fortress better, so that I won’t have to rely on my maids to take me to places.’’

‘’I can show you around, I am sure you will get used to your new home.’’ He finished his drink and poured another, ‘’This isn’t home.’’ Y/N said under her breath, a sudden sadness washed her body up and down like the waves of Caladan. ‘’Hm?’’ he pretended like he didn’t hear, he wanted her to say it but she surprised him, ‘’Nothing.’’

‘’You don’t like rare cooked meat I take it?’’ he was taking notes of her likes and dislikes, ‘’I like it well cooked.’’ Feyd pressed a button on the table and in seconds a servant man rushed in immediately, ‘’My wife prefers her meat well cooked. If a mistake like this ever happenes again I shall serve her the kitchen staffs’ heads instead.’’ He wasn’t even looking at the servant, he was focused on the dessert he was eating, Y/N apologized quietly to the servant man who was shaking, carrying her plate back to the kitchens to bring what Na-Baron requested.

‘’I am not your wife.’’ Y/N protested in annoyance,

‘’Not yet.’’ He replied and looked to see her intransigent eyes, so fiery it confused Feyd, did he want her to rebel against him and be dominant or did he just wanted to crush her soul to his feet?

The servant brought back her table, ‘’It looks delicious, thank you.’’ She noticed how the servant’s expression change into confusion, Y/N Atreides was slightly impacting them in a good way. The servant them alone.

‘’Do we have to have dinner together every night?’’

‘’Why?’’ he placed his fork on the metal plate, wiping his mouth with a black piece of cloth, ‘’You don’t find me pleasant to look at?’’ he teased, trying to get a reaction out of her, ‘’The table looks more pleasant.’’ She replied coldly, her hands on her lap, sitting tall and immobile, ‘’I have to make sure you finish your plate.’’ He got up from his seat coming to her, ‘’I want strong sons.’’ He added and pulled the chair next to hers. ‘’You forget, I am a Bene Gesserit witch, I choose the gender of the baby.’’ She was watching his movements, what was he doing? He got the fork and knife and cut her meat into cubes, ‘’What are you doing?’’ she looked puzzled, was her mental image becoming true?

‘’Like I have said, I want strong children and a strong mother to take care of them. Now,’’ he got a cube of meat to the fork, ‘’open wide.’’

Y/N could feel the heat rising to her face, ‘’I can eat-‘’

‘’I don’t trust you.’’ He was so forward it caught her off guard, his face held the truth, her Bene Gesserit training was yelling her in her mind, ‘’He doesn’t trust you that you can take care of yourself on your own here..’’

She was trying to find a correct path to manipulate him,

‘’Give in.’’ a voice in her head said,

And she opened wide. ‘’Little dove, see, some things are so easy when you let your guard down.’’ He was close to her, feeding her, the meat was delicious.

‘’Giedi Prime isn’t welcoming to outsiders. His voice was low and she can see he was telling the truth, he got another cube of meat when she swallowed, ‘’Good?’’ he asked as he fed her again, Y/N nodded, she realized how hungry she was, the juice of the meat running down at the corner of her mouth, Feyd wiped it with his thumb and licked it clean. Their eyes never leaving as if it is a contest, in silence she let him feed her.

‘’Good girl.’’ He praised, and watched the effect it had on her. Their eyes refused to part, she didn’t want him to think that she was afraid of him, she wanted to insert her presence to him but his aura was too strong to bare. ‘’What did you mean by Giedi Prime not being welcoming?’’ she noticed he was trying to say something without being obvious, he placed the fork on the plate, leaned back on the chair. ‘’It is easy to make enemies here, one wrong move and you lose. You’re a smart girl, you can figure it out.’’ And he stood up,

‘’Shall we sleep?’’

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